Regular Show: August
by ThatRegularBro
Summary: It's not like Rigby wants to feel the way he does. He just does. And he's struggling to keep his feelings to himself. I don't think he can keep this up for long... Meanwhile, the creature that dwells in the dump grows impatient. MordecaixRigby
1. Monday, August 1st Pt 1

_"Clang! Clang! Clang!"_ Two lumps shifted under their respective comforters. A loud banging had pierced the serenity of the night still left over from Sunday. It was coming from down stairs.

_"Clang! Clanga-langa!"_

They stirred and groaned.

"What's that awful noise," remarked one of the lumps. It was clearly too early to be awake, earlier than either of them were used to at least.

_"CLANG CLANG CLANG."_ The noise came closer to their door

"Everyone up! Up and at em', c'mon guys." The voice was an awful mix of malice and self-righteous authority. One of the lumps peeled away its protective layer to reveal blue feathers. The birds' beak curled in disgust as he peered passed the crust in his eyes at the digital alarm clock.

"Five thirty?" he cried out in the most pathetic voice he could muster. Their door was thrown open.

"Alright you two, get up." The sound rang again, three times in quick succession.

"What the H is that awful noise," whined another voice. From a small exercise trampoline in the corner of the room emerged a tiny brown face, but just the top half.

"Oh you don't like it? What's wrong? Is it too loud? For you two I mean. I wouldn't want to offend our royal guests." The room was suddenly bathed in unforgiving artificial light. The newfound brilliance illuminated a grumpy raccoon and a stubborn blue jay, and both writhed unhappily under their warm blankets. It also revealed a sassy looking gumball machine. One hand sat on his hip, gripping a spatula. The other held the lights switch in the "on" position, as if it would fall upon being released.

"Aw Benson," the indignant raccoon wailed.

"It's way too early," chimed Mordecai.

"Oh, you guys wanted to sleep in? I'm sorry, if I had known I wouldn't have put you through all of this. Here." The light was gone once more.

"Again, I'm so sorry, guys. I really am. Try to get some sleep." The gumball machine's footsteps trailed back down the stairs and far away.

"Woah," the bird gasped

"Yeah, woah. You know, Benson can be pretty cool some-"

"MORDECAI AND RIGBY GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT OR YOU'RE FIRED!"

MONDAY, AUGUST 1st

The two roommates rolled out of their beds and proceeded to make their way towards their bedroom door. They crowded into the bathroom and did their separate morning rituals. Mordecai squeezed a bead of "Plak-Smasher" brand toothpaste onto the bristles of his vanilla toothbrush and proceeded to meticulously scrub his well-taken-care-of teeth. Rigby grabbed an almost empty bottle of "Dr. Groban's Bacon Flavoured Mouth Rinse" and poured the rest of its contents into his mouth. The two went about their oral chores, and Rigby was the first to finish. He shot the bacon flavored antiseptic into the sink, which splashed a trace amount of red mist onto the blue jays white belly. Mordecai grabbed the raccoon by his small head and pushed him out the door, never once looking away from his own agitated reflection on the medicine cabinet. He heard four tiny feet scampering away as his friend chuckled his way down the stairs. The blue jay flossed quickly and then, realizing that he would be second, ran after him.

Half way down the stairs he noticed a sweet and toasty aroma that filled the air with humid flavor. He inhaled through his nose. At the bottom of the stairs he could hear a calm but humored commotion coming from the kitchen. His friend was already sitting in the center chair, trying to absorb as much attention as he could from the other diners. The aforementioned diners were a tall white yeti wearing denim pants and a classy gentleman with an enormously rotund cranium.

"Mordecai! Oh Mordecai, splendid news! Benson has made blueberry flapjacks with maple nectar and whipped cream!" He stressed the silent "h" in whipped. Mordecai found Pops to have a warming personality and always looked forward to seeing him. The yeti sat in his seat at the head of the table with a friendly grimace on his face.

"Oh do tell him, Skips, how are they?" Pops added.

"Delicious," replied the yeti called Skips in monotone as he severed the last bite with his knife and chomped it.

"I saved you two some PANCAKES. Don't ask me why." He eyed Pops while he spoke, annoyed with the fact that he had called them "flapjacks." He knew that the man would never get the hint, but he couldn't help feeling annoyed with him. Rigby was already busy munching his portion, and Mordecai graciously thanked Benson before sitting down to enjoy his.

"Wait a minute." Never out of character, Benson wasn't finished ruining their day before it began. He picked up a clipboard off of the kitchen counter and read off of it with conviction.

"It's Monday, and that means that all of the trash cans need to be emptied, and all of that trash has to be taken to the dump. You two slackers will be assigned to all of the trashcans on the west side of the park, Muscleman and High Five Ghost will be assigned to the east side."

"Benson, that's like a million trash cans dude, c'mon!" Rigby complained.

"Okay then, maybe you don't want these pancakes, DUDE." he said, snatching Rigby's plate.

"Maybe you don't want your paycheck either, DUDE. Maybe you don't even want a, gasp, JOB, here in the park." Rigby looked down at the empty spot on the table where his plate had been. It was still covered in crumbs and syrup from the mess he had been busy making up until Benson interjected. The gumball machine gave him an aggressive stare.

"Sorry Benson…" the raccoon faked an apology. Benson slammed Rigby's plate back down where it had been, splashing him with syrup. The little raccoon gobbled his last bite greedily as Mordecai began eating his.

"Skips," he said, adjusting his tone to that of mutual respect,

"You'll be in charge of taking the trash bags to the dump. Other than that, I'm giving you the day off."

"What? No fair!" Rigby belted. Mordecai motioned to his friend to stop, but his temper had gotten the better of him. Mordecai could hear Benson gritting his teeth together, ready to unleash hell upon the both them.

"Oh me, do me! Benson, my good man, what am I to do today?" Pops unknowingly saved Rigby from a merciless verbal beating. Benson clutched the bridge of his nose trying to hold in the screams.

"You don't work here Pops, I'm your employee."

"Oh…" the man trailed off in his most disappointed voice as he retreated into his chair. Pops was one of the only people on the planet that Benson held the slightest bit of empathy for.

"Um, wait. Pops, there is something on here for you. It says that you have to… um…" He was trying to imagine something that Pops couldn't possibly destroy. He snapped his fingers and smiled.

"It says you have to wash every window in the house." Pops couldn't contain his glee and fell off of his chair, slamming his cranium into the hardwood floor with a loud crash. The man groaned on the ground. Everyone gasped except for Rigby, who was angrily licking his plate.

"Pops, are you alright?" asked Benson, genuinely concerned with the well being of his friend. The impact had shaken the table, knocked a vase off of the table and loosened a nail on the back of Skips' chair.

"He probably left a dent in the floor…" Rigby chuckled under his breath.

"RIGBY!" Mordecai and Benson shouted in unison, but before they could scold the wise cracking raccoon, they were interrupted by an uproar of laughter. Pops lifted his head off the ground, which left a small crater in its wake. Rigby let out two "hmms" of approval, and watched the now ecstatic pops dig around for paper towels and cleaning supplies.

"Oh Benson it's going to be smashing! You'll see, they will be the most pristine panes of glass you have ever seen." When he had found the supplies under the sink, he ran away, laughing and talking to himself. All listened in silence until the sounds faded into the house.

"Okay, now does everyone understand what they have to do? No complaints, right?" He emphasized the last word and glared at Rigby. Before he could rebut, Mordecai grabbed the Raccoon's face so that only a few huffs were heard.

"We understand Benson! Absolutely. Are there any other jobs you want us to do today other than all that trash stuff?"

"Yeah, if you're looking to make a few extra bucks, sure. Let me think about it, I'll meet you guys outside later."

"Okay Benson, well me and Rigby are gonna get started on the trash cans, so we'll see you later!"

"Oh Mordecai, one more thing. Could you rally Muscleman and High Five Ghost and tell them to help you guys with the trashcans? I couldn't get them to wake up earlier."

"Sure thing Benson, we'll get them up right now actually. Come on Rigby." Mordecai dragged his friend by the face as they walked out the door and into the rising sun.

Mordecai waited until the two were about one hundred feet from the house before he let go of his friends face. Rigby took in a few gasps of air and smacked Mordecai's hand, which didn't hurt him at all.

"So how did they taste?" Rigby coughed between pants.

"What, the pancakes?"

"No, Benson's gumballs." Rigby snickered a few times before Mordecai knocked him over.

"Ow! What the hell man?"

"Look dude I'm the only thing that stopped you from acting like an idiot and getting yourself fired back there. You should be thanking me."

"Oh, they tasted like grapes and oranges? Figures, bro." Mordecai reached down and flicked the rascals' nose as hard as he could.

"God damn it Mordecai leave my face alone for two seconds, jeez!" They both huffed their way towards Muscleman's trailer.

"Why do they get to sleep in? Why?" Rigby whined.  
>"Dude first of all, they don't live in the house with us, they own that trailer. Second, we got pancakes. That was pretty cool of Benson. You were being a baby."<p>

"Well I guess you were too busy turning Benson's crank to notice that those pancakes sucked."

"You ate them faster than anyone at the table you freakin' pig. Not to mention you made that stupid comment when Pops fell over, he could have been hurt!"

"Neh neh neh neh nehhhh…" Rigby mocked.

"Alright dude I'm about to mess you up if you don't shut it. You're making this the worst day ever..."

"I hear losers outside," a raspy voice screamed out from inside the trailer.

"Why do I hear losers outside?" he screamed again, this time kicking the front door of his rusty Winnebago open. A wall of smoke poured out from behind an obese silhouette that stood menacingly in the doorway as a guitar wailed from a stereo within the cabin. It drained out of the trailer as though it were a dense gas, enveloping Mordecai and Rigby for a moment before being swept up and discarded by a gentle breeze. A small ghost emerged from a rotten tree stump, and as the smoke dissipated the phantom grew a menacing grin. The two wheezed as the man's ivory skin appeared like an apparition.

"Oh. Hi losers."

By 10 pm the group had done a good deal of work, and were feeling far less grumpy. The two pairs had made a game out of the chore Benson assigned to them. Mordecai and Muscleman tied and bagged the existing garbage, while Rigby and High Five replaced the bags in the empty cans. Each team was assigned to a side of the park, east and west. There was no wager, but that had not stopped the teams from becoming dangerously competitive.

"Aw man there's another one! Get it!" Rigby shouted. Mordecai grabbed the plastic handles of the black bag and tied them with gusto. He then lifted up the bag and slammed it into the back of the duo's golf cart.

"Uh! West Side represent!" Mordecai shouted triumphantly. Rigby was busy fumbling around with the box of trash bags. When he finally found the dividing incision in the seemingly endless sheet of black plastic, he tore off a single bag. He was having a difficult time finding the opening.

"Rigby hurry up!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!"

"Dude, you suck at this, let me see it!" Before the two could begin fighting over the bag, they heard Muscleman in the distance.

"Woooooo! That's fifty trash cans, East Coast represent!" This was followed by the most cacophonous high five the two had ever heard. Rigby immediately found the opening in the bag and whipped it through the air to open it. He lined the empty barrel with the fresh bag and they both hopped back in the cart.

"Step on it!" Mordecai let off a quick "hmmm" and stomped down on the gas pedal.

"How many did they say they had, fifty, right?" Mordecai asked, as the cart slid through a right turn.

"Yeah, fifty. That puts us behind…" The raccoon held up his fingers one by one, staring at his hands intently.

"Four, dude, it puts us behind by four." Mordecai shouted before Rigby could finalize his calculations.

"What are we gonna do?" Rigby shouted. The engine of the cart made it hard for the two to hear each other.

"We kick it into overdrive, dude!" Their heads were knocked back as Mordecai shot through park as fast as the cart would go.

"I see one!" the raccoon pointed to a full up trash can ahead.

"Rigby, these things have ropes in them, right?" Rigby reached into the glove box and fished out a medium-thickness rope and handed to his friend. The blue jay fashioned a make shift lasso and whipped it towards the overflowing bin. The rope snagged the bag, which was yanked right out of the bin and into the golf cart. Mordecai then attached the rope to Rigby and tossed him, new bag in hand, at the empty barrel.

"Yeeeeaaaaaargh!" he declared. As he fell, the bag opened and decelerated his ascent like a parachute, but only slightly. He lined the empty can with the new plastic slip, and before he was yanked violently back into his cart, he caught a brief glimpse of Muscleman and High Five ghost speeding along in their cart with fifty full bags piled on the back.

"YOU KNOW WHO ELSE LIKES TAKING OUT THE TRASH?" Muscleman hollered as their cart kicked up a fifty-foot long cloud of dust

Pops was still busy washing his first window back at the house at high noon, and in the distance he saw a golf cart flying through the air and passing in front of the sun. He could hear hollering in the distance, though he barely noticed it. When he finally felt that the window was satisfactory, he was filled with boyish pride. He looked down and saw his good friend Benson washing one of the parks many carts with Skips. With all of his might he managed slide the window open.

"Yoo hoo! Oh Benson!" he called down below. From the highest window he felt like royalty.

"Hi Pops," Benson called up with a tinge of forced enthusiasm.

"I finished Benson! Isn't it magnificent?" He cried out.

"You finished that one?"

"Yes, the very same! This one right here!"

"That's great Pops, what about the other windows?"

"The other windows?" Pops looked behind him, and saw that unclean windows lined the hallway. As his anxiety kicked in, the hallway appeared to deform and stretch into the horizon.

"Oh… those windows…" He turned back into the house, feeling discouraged and slightly frightened. He took a few steps, and then stopped.

"Almost forgot to close this one," he said, sliding the window shut. As he walked back into the endless hall of windows a rotten banana peel from Mordecai and Rigby's cart reentered orbit and slammed into the one clean window, soiling it beyond the meager Pops' ability to clean it. Luckily, he never noticed.

"I just think you're being a little bit too hard on him" Skips told Benson.

"Rigby is a punk, and a lazy one at that." Benson sneered, rinsing the windshield with the pistol-shaped hose extension.

"Rigby is an asset, and a member of this family." Skips replied.

"When was the last time he did anything for you, or I, or anyone around here? He's a menace."

"Benson, watch your tongue. You might regret your words some day. It's not about what he 'does' for us. He's a friend, and this place wouldn't be the same without him."

"My father never kept his 'friends' on the payroll." Benson scrubbed the cart angrily.

"Benson, you're being a real creep you know that?" Benson sighed.

"I know. Look, I'm sorry. I'm just getting fed up with his crap." The gumball machine confessed.

"The constant lying, the back talk, the slacking." He choked a little over the last word.

"He's just going through some personal issues. You can relate right?" He paused, allowing his words to set in.

"Remember when you were his age? And besides, he's two feet tall and weaker than all of us. That can't be easy, and he still manages to get his work done, whether you like to admit it or not." Benson knew that Skips was not to be questioned when it came to matters like these. The guy had a level head and a heart of gold, and though Benson had a terrible temper, Skips was incapable of igniting it. Benson sighed again in defeat.

"You want to see how those guys are doing with the trash bags?" Their conversation was cut short by the sounds of distant engines roaring.

"I think we're about to find out." Skips shielded the sun with his right hand and watched the spectacle unfold. The two carts, side by side, kicked up valleys of dirt as they zoomed across the park. The teams had each stockpiled a small mountain of trash bags, and their carts were racing towards Skips.

"Oh sweet Jesus, Skips, what have we done." Benson heaved with regret. The passengers of the two carts hurled insults at each other as they careened down the dirt path leading up to the house. High Five Ghost struggled to keep the bags on his cart from toppling over, and Rigby (still attached to the lasso that he had used to replace the bags,) tailed the two racers like a kite being tossed about violently. As they came closer and closer, Benson gripped both sided of his head in desperation.

"Oh god, oh god, what do we do what do we do?" His fear quickly turned to frustration.

"If they crash into us, if they get trash everywhere, I'm gonna be so pissed." Skips kept his position and retained his stoic expression. Benson looked at skips, then back at the racers, then back at skips.

" Oh Mordecai," Muscleman belched, swinging his sweaty t-shirt over his head.

"Can it Muscleman!" Mordecai swerved to slam the rival cart.

"West Coast baby!" shouted Rigby as he whipped around in the air.

"East Coast represent!" Muscleman tossed his sweaty t-shirt and it stuck to Mordecai's face like fly paper.

"My eyes!" he shrieked. He began to lose control of his vehicle.

"Pull me in, pull me in!" cried Rigby. Mordecai grabbed onto the rope that secured his friend to the left side of the cart and began to pull hand over hand, while attempting to steer the cart straight with his knees. Rigby crashed down in the passenger seat and screamed at the sight of Muscleman's repulsive rag. Rigby grabbed the dripping cloth and yanked it out of his friend's eyes.

"I can see the house, we're almost there!" Mordecai announced as he wiped the fowl sweat from his eyes.

"Rigby, take the wheel." He did.

"Drive up next to them, hurry!" the cart bounced back on to the road and was redirected towards its rival.

"Avert your eyes, man. It's about to get weird."

"What are you gonna do to him?" Rigby hollered, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I like to call it revenge;" he paused, squinting his eyes while forming a fist.

"West Coast style."

"Oh god Mordecai what are you doing? Ewwwwww!"

Benson jumped at the sound of Muscleman shrieking. He watched in horror as the cart swerved. At it's peak, High Five Ghost continued fighting to keep the bags up right. He didn't know what was worse, the potential lawsuit or the mountains of garbage that he was going to have to deal with.

"Skips it's gonna fall, I fucking knew it. It's gonna fall. It's going to fall, I'm gonna get sued, there's gonna be trash everywhere, and they're gonna be dead, and the damn thing is going to fall!"

"Benson relax, High Five Ghost is a pro. He's got it."

"I don't know skips…"

"Just watch."

As Muscleman's cart screeched to a halt, the pile flopped to one side. High Five Ghost dove under the pile and pushed it back upward with all of his might, miraculously saving the structure while restoring it to a neat pointed peak. Muscleman ran from the cart and immediately assumed the fetal position. Rigby gave the controls back to Mordecai, who brought the cart to a clean stop. He even threw in a quarter turn, just for style.

"Aw yeah!" Rigby shouted, as he and his bud slammed each other with high fives and chest bumps. Their celebration was cut short when their short-tempered boss regained his composure.

"Unbelievable. You guys are in so much trouble. What the heck were you thinking?" the gumball machine stormed toward their cart, beet red with rage. The two dudes shrank into their seats and eyed each other.

"Do you think this is a joke? You think this is game? Do you have any idea how much property damage you could have caused? And don't even get me started on…"

"Benson," he heard, and turned around steaming with rage.

"What, Skips?"

"I got this one. Go inside."

"What are you talking about?"  
>"I haven't heard Pops in a while, have you? You should go check on him."<p>

"Skips…"

"Benson." He paused.

"I got this one." Benson relaxed a little bit, but with slight hesitation

"Fine, okay. I trust that you'll punish these two morons accordingly" the heat in his voice returned with the word moron, and with that he angrily made his way inside, swearing under his breath. Mordecai and Rigby had watched this quizzical scenario unfold in front of them and didn't know what to think of it. Skips turned his attention on them, and they both cowered slightly.

"You two are coming with me to the dump."

"Aw no fair what about Muscleman and High Five?" Rigby moaned.

"We have two carts filled with trash, we're making two trips. We'll do yours first. Now move ova', I'm driving."

Back inside, Benson called out "Pops!" several times. He returned no answer. At first he panicked, but then he thought to look where he last saw Pops. Benson made his way up to the attic and found the man collapsed on the floor with tears in his eyes. He had made it to his second window, but not much further. A few streaks of window detergent streamed down the panes of glass and onto the wall.

"Benson? Is that you?" the frightened man enquired.

"Yeah, it's me Pops."

"I… I just couldn't take it, there were just too many. Forgive me."

"Well, Pops, sure you didn't finish all of the windows, but the one you did clean…" He looked over at the window that had been soiled by a rotten banana moments after it had been clean.

"I failed Benson. I am ready to receive my verbal repercussions."

"What? What are you talking about? I'm not gonna yell at you."

"But I failed! I have disappointed you. Whenever Mordecai or Rigby fail your punishment is swift and unrelenting."

"C'mon Pops, let's help you up."

Benson led the man to his bed. Meanwhile, Pops' observation about his conditional empathy rolled around in his head like many gumballs…

_ This fiction is apart of a series called "August," with each chapter pertaining to a different day in the same month. Expect the series to be long and get much more dramatic as the month comes to a close. I will attempt to complete at least one day a week at the very least._

_This one's gonna have to be a two parter, but sheesh it was a blast to write. _

_Tell me what you guys think!_


	2. Monday, August 1st Pt 2

Mordecai and Rigby exchanged glances as the still-stoic yeti piloted the small mountain of trash bags down the freeway. They weren't quite sure what Skips was planning. He had never interjected in the past, and to be quite honest the pair was secretly a bit scared of him.

"That was some good driving back there," Skips said, breaking the silence. The two were unsure if he was being sarcastic, so they held their tongues for a moment. It was often hard to read Skips' emotions. "I'm serious, I can't believe you guys beat Muscleman and High Five. They're pretty good."

"So you're not mad at us?" Mordecai mumbled.

"Heavens no," the yeti said with a chuckle as he smirked his first smirk of the day. "You two put on a hell of a show. I haven't seen a good race like that in ages."

"Aw yeah! So you're not gonna punish us?" Rigby asked as the golf cart careened down the highway.

"I never said that. You guys are still in trouble. I'm just saying that I dig what you were doing back there." The three watched as the peaks of the local dump rose in the horizon. The day had been humid and exceptionally warm so the breeze from the ride was refreshing. Despite their negligence, they had been working very hard all day, and they did enjoy the praise that Skips was giving them. Mordecai was in high spirits.

"In any case, Skips, that was pretty cool of you, saving us back there and all," he remarked with a smile. "If you had let Benson have us, he would have eaten us alive."

"What's his problem anyways? He's been extra 'cranky' lately," Rigby sneered. Mordecai chuckled and elbowed his friend at the terrible joke.

"You two should cut that out," Skips said. They did. The two winced at Skips' change of heart. They had never known Skips to be so protective of their boss. As the three sat in silence, a heavy gust kicked up the thick green gas that cloaked the dump and screams became audible over the sounds of heavy traffic that surrounded them.

Back at the house, Benson sat in silence at the kitchen table. The pancakes that he had made earlier no longer sat in his stomach, and in his quiet grief he prepared himself a turkey sandwich. He opened the new bag of bread and poured out its contents, removing the end pieces for himself and putting the rest in the bag. He then meticulously layered turkey, lettuce, tomato and mustard onto the crusty slices. As he gently dropped the top piece of bread into place he let out a heavy sigh. He was about to take a bite, when he remembered that Pops had not eaten since morning. He pushed his chair back from the table and began to prepare another sandwich, much like his own. He took out the bag of bread and assembled turkey, lettuce, tomato and mustard on two new slices. He called up to Pops, who was still feeling defeated.

"Pops, you hungry? I made you a sandwich." There was no answer. He tried again.

"Pops!" There was only silence.

"Alright Pops, chop chop, you gotta eat. C'mon now get up." The gumball machine tapped his foot at the bottom of the stairs impatiently. After a handful of taps, he made his way up the stairs, sandwich in hand. Pops' room was dark. The filth that had splattered on his window acted as a shade. Benson spoke softly.

"Pops, how you holdin' up? I made you this sandwich, made myself one too. I figured we could… eat together, I dunno."

Pops shifted under his blanket and turned towards Benson.

"Why can't I do anything, Benson?" He choked over his words.

"Is there something wrong with me?" he added.

Benson rubbed the back of his own neck, unsure of what to say. Pops continued; "You tell everyone else to take out the trash or to do the dishes, and if they fail they are punished. You ask me to wash some simple windows, and if I fail you reward me? With food? Benson, am I a child?"

Benson stood in the doorway casting a long shadow over the man's bed. He was choosing his words carefully. His brow told of how careful he actually was.

"Pops, there's nothing wrong with you. You're just different…" The gumball machine approached the bed and the man retreated into his comforter. "We're all different," he continued.

Pops turned back towards him. His eyes still showed grief. "Really?" he asked. Benson saw his friends' eyes and gave the man a look of understanding and then a smirk.

"Well sure, you've got Mordecai, who couldn't talk to a lady if his life depended on it, you've got Rigby who's about as big and strong as a pillow…"

Pops laughed a little at this. "You've also got Skips," Benson continued, "Skips, who scares just about everyone… there's Muscleman who really has no self control, High Five Ghost who can't handle his liquor for his life, and then there's me, who can't even…" He cleared his throat. "There's me, who can't even have…"

He trailed off on the last on the last example. Pops calmed down a bit, shifting his efforts towards empathizing with Benson. "Well," Pops said, "I guess there's that…"

Benson's reply was a simple "Yeah," and the two let the silence set in for a few moments.

"So my inadequacies in the field of housework are endearing, not detrimental?" Pops asked with a bit of confusion. The logic escaped him, but its sentiment persuaded his reasoning.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Benson replied with a spark. "Now come on, I made you a damn sandwich, the least you could do is eat it. You're no use to me up here." They both shared a laugh and, once again, some common ground. Benson had known Pops for many years now, and the two had developed an understanding of each other.

Rigby launched the first trash bag into the deep pit. Monstrous tentacles shot out from the darkness and tore into the bag. The sight made Mordecai cringe. Skips picked up two more and tossed them into the beast's mouth. The scene was straight out of a horror movie. Tall mountains of garbage extended into the stratosphere. At their center, a crater containing an ancient evil screamed up at the three groundskeepers. The creature belched huge clouds of green gas that smelled like rotting produce.

"I hate the dump," Sighed Mordecai. The three stood atop their own mountain of trash, which wobbled precariously on top of their golf cart. They had parked atop a tall precipice that overlooked the creature. Of all the chores, Rigby liked this one the most. He found the beast fascinating and enjoyed watching it feed. Mordecai, on the other hand, hated the thing. He cringed again as it let out another scream of hunger. Rigby tossed another black bag into the deep chasm and chuckled with sick delight as it lacerated the plastic with its tentacles.

"Dude," Mordecai said, "why are you so obsessed with that thing? It's like you have a crush on it or something."

"I dunno man, it's a cool thing. Just look at it," Rigby replied. He then began imitating the monsters screams while flailing about.

"You can't even watch a scary movie without crying like a baby, you should be terrified," Mordecai said, heaving another plastic trash bag off of the cart. He cowered as the creature screeched once again. "Plus," he added, "This is supposed to be our punishment. At least pretend this isn't fun for you."

"Skips," a friendly voice called out from the other side of the parking lot. A scraggly looking beaver stood in the distance, motioning the yeti to come closer. The two older gentlemen exchanged a few jokes and a handshake. The man, Paul Draggle, was the owner and operator of the city dump, as well as the keeper and caretaker of the horror that ate the cities garbage. Mordecai had expected Rigby to be on his case for being scared of the creature, but it was as if the raccoon hadn't noticed. Rigby was preoccupied with Skips and the old beaver.

"Wow, people really respect Skips," Rigby said, chucking another bag. "I wish people respected us," he continued. His tone was honest and humble. This was rare for the oft-insincere raccoon. He was telling the truth, he really did wish that people respected him. He was also aware that he probably didn't deserve the respect of others, which made him feel even more insecure.

"What are you talking about, Rigby? People respect us. Skips respects us for winning the race…"

"Skips DID respect us for winning the race. Now he doesn't because I made that stupid joke about Benson," Rigby grieved. Mordecai couldn't tell if his friend was feeling genuinely repentant or just feeling sorry for himself. He suspected the latter. Despite this, he felt it was his duty to diffuse Rigby's ill emotions.

"I'm sure Skips still respects us. You can't lose someone's respect that easily." Mordecai was right, but it didn't make Rigby feel any better. Mordecai waited for a response but did not get one. Rigby shifted his eyes toward the ground in an act of submission. "And another thing, we're like, 23 years old. Do you respect anyone who's 23 years old?" Mordecai made another valid point. Rigby stroked his chin with a filthy, garbage-covered paw. "How old is Skips, like a hundred years old? Maybe more? I'm sure by the time we're a hundred plenty of people will respect us." Mordecai smiled at Rigby with his last point, confident that his logic was infallible to the both of them. Rigby smiled back. Mordecai felt good relieving his friend. For a moment he even forgot about how scared he was. He was so distracted that he didn't notice the slimy tentacle that was closing in on his right leg.

High Five Ghost sprinkled some ground up bud into a fresh cigarette paper. Despite only having one hand, he was prolific in his joint rolling abilities. As Muscleman and High Five Ghost lit the flawless jay, a skunky aroma filled their trailer. High Five took the first hit. The thick smoke permeated through his transparent skin and caused his empty eye sockets to blush. He passed the burning joint to Muscleman who took in a huge hit and coughed it back up. The two hadn't spoken since the race, but this was not out of spite for each other. In fact, the two rarely conversed about anything. No, the two friends were over their loss. Muscleman was a bit shaken up from the stunt that Mordecai had pulled earlier, but he knew that he could push the memory out of his mind if he let in a few more hits of the dank smoke. Suddenly, High Five Ghost sensed that something had gone terribly wrong.

"Mordecai, look out!" Rigby screamed. The terrified bird was grabbed by the leg and hoisted into the air as though his weight were not a factor. Rigby immediately sprang into action. The raccoon sprinted on all fours toward his friend. Mordecai was so frightened that he could not struggle or scream. Rigby climbed the tentacle that held his friend and bit down on its scaly green skin. The taste was so horrible that it caused him gag and lose his grip. Rigby cringed as his back crashed down onto the asphalt. The sun beat down directly in his eyes, but he could make out the silhouette of his helpless friend being shaken about. He watched in horror as a second tentacle appeared out of the pit. It slowly dug into Mordecai's back and carved a deep gash. Mordecai was in such a heavy shock that he didn't even flinch. The blood dripped onto Rigby's face and woke him up like a splash of cold water. He flipped onto his stomach and jumped back on the creatures arm. He bit down much harder this time, drawing glossy purple blood. The taste was even more awful this time, but he was so charged with raw adrenaline that he barely noticed. A single thought entered his mind as he accidently swallowed a mouthful of the horrid liquid.

"Where is Skips?"

Benson ate his lunch quickly, never pausing to appreciate the flavors. He finished much quicker than Pops, who savored every bite of the processed turkey. "It is the finest sandwich I have ever eaten, Benson." Pops was forever unaware of social protocol. He was forthcoming with his compliments almost to a fault. In the past, his tone had come across as condescending and sarcastic, which had gotten him into trouble with strangers. Yet he was unaware of insincerity; its concept and practice completely escaped him. For this reason, he was always aware of Benson's big heart and recognized it on a level that most could not. As Benson rinsed his plate, he looked out the window. He noticed Muscleman barreling toward the house on foot.

"That's weird, I've never seen Muscleman running before," the gumball machine said as he placed his soiled dish in the dishwasher. He wasn't looking forward to talking to Muscleman or High Five Ghost (who was sure to follow shortly.) Still, Muscleman looked distressed, and this puzzled Benson almost to the point of being concerned. The door to the kitchen burst open, which made Pops jump a bit. Benson looked at the two with an impatient curiosity. While Muscleman heaved on the tile floor, his phantom friend flew about in a panic. Neither could speak. Benson's temper was coming back quickly.

"Alright, what's going on? Are you two high, again," Benson barked. Pops held his sandwich to his mouth and took another bite, shifting his eyes uneasily between the three.

"Yes… I mean no… I mean," the ghost wailed in his vibrato voice.

"Benson," the green man gasped. "Trouble… Mordecai…" His hands rested on his knees and he looked up between each word. He nearly fell on the floor.

"Wha-Mordecai? Mordecai's in trouble?"

Down town, a coffee shop was buzzing with excitement. It was a popular spot for day laborers during the restful lunch hours. In the kitchen, pots fizzled and popped with the sounds of new coffee, and inviting aromas permeated out into the dining area. Here, a beautiful red robin named Margaret struggled to keep up with the crowd of hungry diners. It was the kind of place that people visited out of familiarity rather than quality of food or service. An old CRT television hovered above the crowd, held only by a crude metal platform. It broadcasted standard definition rock music videos for all to see. For those who came alone it provided a healthy distraction. The crowd ambience was almost enough to make these people feel like they apart of the comradery. As the mid day rush settled in, Margaret felt a bit overwhelmed (as she always did.) It was a sensation that she was used to. She couldn't help but notice that her two favorite customers hadn't come in that day, which was unusual. She could only think of this for a moment before an excited young man came in through the front door with terrible news. He commanded that she switch the television to channel five. She obliged. The old device had lost its remote long ago, so Margaret had to stand on a chair to reach the analog control dial. As she flipped down from channel twenty she saw an ad for a bullet shaped blender, a Spanish man confessing his love in a foreign tongue, an idiotic children's program featuring multicultural puppets, a woman promising endless youth, something about natural male enhancement, an antique lantern being appraised for over five hundred thousand dollars, an ancient woman speaking the gospel, a musical number involving dozens of zebra-print umbrellas, a man getting ready to spike a tennis ball filled with explosives, a piece of candy diving into a pool of molten chocolate, the punch line of a bad joke, a recipe for cranberry-walnut crab rangoons, the laughter of an insecure widow, a blue sky over an autumn field, and finally, a creature known as "the dump" crawling out of its eternal prison on the other side of town. She was so close to the screen that she could make out two shapes, one brown, and one sky blue. They each consisted of only two or three pixels.

Rigby fell to the ground wheezing. He vomited violet slop all over the pavement. He felt extremely ill after ingesting the creature's blood. The bite had caused the creature to drop Mordecai, and as it shrieked with pain the blue jay crashed down on his right wing. The raccoon had managed to turn toward his friend even as the toxic blood tore into his innards. From the television screen back at the coffee shop, they looked like a brown dot and a blue line. The two incapacitated friends looked at each other intently. Rigby's expression said "I tried," but Mordecai's could not respond. With glassy, uncaring eyes, the blue bird lost consciousness. Rigby watched the blood poor out of his friend's beak as he did the same. And then, everything was black.


	3. Tuesday, August 2nd

TUESDAY, AUGUST 2nd

Only their spirits spoke of their proximity. In the dark, they observed nothing, but they knew. They knew of each other, and of duality, and of a mutual understanding that brought them courage. Flashes of color and sparks and feelings were sparse and widespread, but they made the infinite void feel inhabited. As though they were back-to-back yet dumb and blind, they felt closeness but never contact. Their thoughts were infantile and infertile. The languages known as shapes and colors were the only things they knew. Another pulse of color brought life into the void, expanding as the universe does in all directions. It was blue for Rigby. It was amber for Mordecai. It reached out into the void, igniting it while proudly exhibiting its infinite vastness. It vanished as quickly as it came, and in their dark, confusing prisons they waited. Another pulse came, but this time it was not a simple color. It was a texture. A wave of grass rippled across all that existed and faded into the infinite horizon. Another followed, but this one was more focused. It contained details like stones, puddles, shrubs and sunlight. Another pulse came, moving more quickly than its predecessor. The waves of light became more and more vivid as they passed by, incorporating details like flowers, trees and eventually familiar artifacts from their previous existence. Their passing sped up with every burst, and it became clear that they made up a moving picture. It was only a matter of time before this cosmic flipbook would become a fully matured memory. Shapes and colors gave way to music and words, and once again the language of their lives returned. They still could not sense each other directly but their duality remained. Together but separated,

they stepped out of the void and into a memory…

* * *

><p><em>FRIDAY, AUGUST 29th, 2008<em>

The acid had finally kicked in. The organs and guitars on stage blared out a loud, pulsating groove, and Mordecai's world began to feel steeper. It was as if he was being sucked down the endless drop of a psychedelic roller coaster. A tapestry of new sounds filled his ears, and the blue jay bobbed back and forth to the thick bass line that violated his chest cavity. A vortex pulled at his stomach and the stars above him left pleasant trails as he danced in circles with his head tilted back. The fireworks danced with him in the distant sky, and for a moment he forgot his name. He was enjoying LSD, though it was nothing like he had expected. He had always thought that it would bring him literal hallucinations, but the reality was that his trip was much more mental. He hallucinated physical feelings much more than actual images, and the visuals he did get were more like trails and color distortions. Despite the intense effects of the drug, Mordecai kept a level head. He had a knack for keeping control of his mind, even under the influence of heavy drugs. He hadn't come alone.

The acid had finally kicked in, but unfortunately, it poisoned Rigby's emotions. The Raccoon fell into himself, and his world became empty. The drug amplified a deep depression that he had never personally addressed, and as he looked inward he only saw worthlessness. The insecurities he felt during his trip were not of this world. He felt as though in the cosmic scheme of things, despite how infinitesimally small the soul of the average person was, his was microscopic by comparison. He could not bring himself to use his own eyes, as the eye of his soul painted a much more bleak and vivid reality. He needed to escape the rowdy crowd that ravaged the field. Their primal hoopla made him feel even less connected, as if he had never belonged to begin with. This music festival, at which his friend promised so much enjoyment, was killing him. The faces around him were filled with ancient conviction, and they circled him hungry animals, pointing out everything wrong with who he was and where he came from. The anonymous faces twisted together and looked at he and the stage simultaneously. Rigby crawled from the crowd like a shipwreck victim, narrowly escaping the riptide of their judgment. The full moon illuminated his escape, and from a distance his four-legged silhouette was gorgeous in its melancholy.

Mordecai broke free of this drug-induced trance. His thoughts turned to his Rigby's absence. He looked around, and in the tribe-like audience he did not see the familiar face of his oldest friend. He worried about Rigby, and his only thought was that he must have been having a bad trip. Though he was in a panic, he did not internalize his predicament. Instead, he acted on instinct and out of the protection of his missing companion. He steadily pushed his way through the crowd. It was much easier for him to escape on account of his height and physical strength, which he nearly always took for granted. As he broke free of the crowd, his pupils opened wide. The night was bathed in the dim blue light of the moon, and Mordecai's eyes took their time adjusting to the darkness. His confused walk back to the tent was profoundly beautiful. As the images in the dark became clearer and the noise of the concert faded into the background, the blue jay began to dance to a different kind of beat. The sounds of nature were so old and glorious. He nearly decided to fall right there, in the soft grass, to enjoy the stars and the little concert that the crickets and bullfrogs played for him. In fact, he planned on it, but not without Rigby.

The sweet smells of incense and stale weed smoke clashed with the artificial smells of the nylon sleeping bags and the canvas tent. Rigby's sleeping bag was warm, and yet he found no comfort in it. He felt a perverse awareness of his own inner workings, mental and physical. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears and the sound reminded him of wind, emptiness and his own mortality. He clutched himself, hoping that the horrid feelings would go away. His organs pumped and bubbled as they digested the night's food. It was disgusting. He felt like it had always been this way, and that the drugs he had taken just lifted the veils that shielded his eyes from the truth. Rigby's overwhelming feelings of self-deprecation were beginning to peak when he heard a loud "zip." He rolled onto his other side to face the entrance of the tent. He saw the wobbling silhouette of his friend floating in the doorway. Mordecai instantly recognized the disparity in his friend's face. For a moment his compassion was immeasurable and almost pleasurable. He felt beautiful being able to feel the pain of another. Mordecai got down on his knees and placed a wing on his friend.

"Rigby, how you holding up man?" Rigby returned no reply. He shivered slightly. Mordecai's presence eased him a little bit and his arm bore a warm energy, but it was not enough to make him forget the mountain of shame that he had accumulated over the course of his trip. Mordecai manually flipped Rigby and smiled down on him. "C'mon dude. Let's figure this out." The music in the distance was still audible.

Rigby let out a meager sigh of desperation. "I'm just scared, I'm so fucking scared." The tears flowed from his eyes generously. Mordecai's looked into them with such care. Upon seeing this, his trip became significantly less horrifying. Rigby almost smiled a little. He was beginning to notice how good his tears felt coming out. They trickled down his nose, which also dripped considerably, and past his lips. The taste was salty and by no means wonderful, but he did enjoy it on a primal level. He brought the clear snot and salty tears into his head with a great sniff and laughed a little.

"You don't look so scared," said Mordecai, sensing his friend's immediate change of heart. He had always known Rigby to be a bit flip-floppy, and the acid only amplified this quality. "C'mon, let's go outside. I want to show you something." Rigby got up and Mordecai grabbed their sleeping bags. Back outside, the two looked up at the stars once again. Mordecai put the sleeping bags down on the grass so that they could watch the sky. The two slipped into their respective beds. "It's beautiful isn't it?"

Rigby liked Mordecai's voice. It had a unique mix of masculine tone and feminine inflection, and it was infectiously comforting. Their conversation was arbitrary; they just wanted to hear each other's voices. The stars above them danced like fireflies, and though they were still on the ground they felt connected to the great cosmos. The sounds of Brain Explosion rang out from the stage that seemed so many miles away, and the sounds of the crickets and of the wind seemed very loud in comparison. The two reached out and touched the planets, figuratively speaking, and enjoyed each other's company immensely as they did.

"So what happened back there, Rigby? Why were you so bummed?" Mordecai asked.

"I don't know, I just realized a bunch of things that I didn't really realize before. It's hard to explain, but I guess I just felt like everything was out to get me, and then I couldn't even grasp the concept of 'me,' and then I lost you and I thought I would never see you again…" Rigby started feeling those bad effects again, but Mordecai interrupted him.

"Dude, we're tripping, it's just a drug. I know the truths that you've learned tonight feel so real, but you've got LSD on the brain. Just enjoy it, man." Mordecai laughed a little. The sleeping bags were close enough that Rigby could feel his friend's voice in his chest. It felt like a lullaby. The ground pulsated with the vibrations of the band's final song. "That's the beauty of it, you know? I bet you didn't even know you were capable of thinking about those things." Rigby smiled at his friend's kindness. "And you know," Mordecai continued, "This is way better than being in that crowd. If wanna trip with anyone, it's you." Mordecai was feeling exceptionally bromantic that night. He wasn't normally so forthcoming with sentimentality, but he figured that this was a special occasion.

"Mordecai, remember back at the tent, when you saved me from that dark dimension, do you think you could, um…" Rigby was embarrassed by what he was about to request, but Mordecai knew exactly what he was thinking. He wrapped his feathered arm around his friend once more, and the two stared into the cosmos together. As the memory faded back into obscurity, the sounds of the distant audience demanding an encore became the only thing either of them could hear. The two slipped back into their unconscious trance. For Rigby, this memory represented a different kind of love than it did for Mordecai. Unfortunately, his feelings were unspoken and non-reciprocal. It would not be the last time Rigby felt the immense confusion conjured by the LSD. As the frames of the picture book slowed to a stop, the ground sank beneath them. The two began floating once again in their dark, confusing prisons, hoping that they would one day be awake again to see each other. Mordecai still needed to thank Rigby for saving his life…

* * *

><p>Author Comments:<p>

I learned from my good friend Demihuman 123 that it's important to connect with your audience, so from now on I will be giving some input at the end of each of these chapters. I drew a ton of inspiration for the imagery in this chapter from the exquisite **Flying Lotus**. If you haven't heard of him, give him a listen. .com/watch?v=ZiJqlcfBpOE

You'll also notice that I have discovered the magic of page breaks. Thanks again demi :p

In this chapter, we're introduced to some of the aspects of M&R that the show doesn't adress, specifically their history with drugs. So to all 3 of my loyal readers, keep it locked until next week.

Peace homies :]


	4. Wednesday, August 3rd

She awoke to the familiar sound of flies buzzing around her apartment. The clock said "6:57," precisely three minutes before it was supposed to go off, and precisely two hours and three minutes before she wanted to wake up. There were only two flies, and they had snuck in the previous night through a pea-sized hole in the screen that covered her window. Her efforts to destroy the pests were futile, and they buzzed about while she peeled herself out of bed.

The bathroom was as cramped and bare as one would expect in a one-bedroom apartment. There was a roman-style sink, a toilet and a stand up shower. The water pressure was pathetic, but the heat felt good on her tired wings. As she began shampooing the feathers on her back, the alarm clock in her room started playing a famous 80's power ballad. She looked down at the suds that dripped off of her body and onto her three-toed feet, which were tapping to the groove of the music coming from her bedroom. The sight of her own claws bothered her a bit.

Once clean, she returned to the other room and dried off in the mirror. She wondered what it was like to have smooth skin like the humans. She let the idea go for a moment while she picked out some garments from the overflowing dresser drawers. She picked out a green polo shirt embellished with a tiny steaming coffee cup and a pair of almond colored work pants. She sprayed herself with a little bit of sweet smelling perfume and walked out the door, being careful to lock it.

Outside, the crater from the incident at the dump was still smoking. A line of caution tape surrounded the entire perimeter, and the beast was nowhere to be seen. There was still the matter of finding a new beast to eat the city's garbage, but other than that the previous one had only managed to cause minor damage to the town.

* * *

><p>WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 3rd<p>

In his dark prison, Mordecai could feel Rigby drifting away from him. He reached out in the dark for another memory to keep their imaginary chain from breaking. He broadcasted a wave of light for Rigby to find, and its blue ring shot out in all directions much like before.

Benson and Skips pulled up to the coffee shop downtown in a battle-scarred golf cart. The two looked like the survivors of a car wreck. Benson's forehead had been chipped and he was missing a few pieces of red paint on his body. Skips had a huge cut on the right side of his face and its stitches had not yet been pulled out. As the two entered, the crowd in the coffee shop applauded. Benson rolled his eyes and Skips calmly ignored then. On the television that hovered above, the news channel was still playing highlights of Monday's battle.

"_… and watch this now. Here we see this brave man and his employees working together to save these two. We are told that their names are Mordecai and Rigby. Wow, just look at this footage…_"

Through the crackled reception, the monster's tentacles could be seen flailing about. Benson, Pops, Muscleman and High Five Ghost were speeding down the highway behind the creature. Skips stood atop a precipice, staff at hand, conjuring an incantation. Above him, the clouds were swirling into a great blue vortex. Mordecai and Rigby's bodies were lying limp in front of the beast. Its arms hovered above them, ready to devour the two unconscious friends. The cart arrived just in time for Muscleman to scoop them up, and Skips' enchantment forced the vortex to fall from the sky and strike the monster dead.

Yesterday the fame had been amusing, but Benson had had his fill and Skips had hardly noticed it. The two approached Margaret, who also recognized them from the television. They attempted to order two black coffees, but she interrupted them with her concern.

"How are they," she asked.

"_…I'm being told now that the two are still in critical condition…_"

Benson chuckled. He assumed she was talking about Mordecai and Rigby. She seemed about the right age to be acquainted with them. "We can't kill them off just yet," he joked. Benson's humor struck Margaret as sadistic. Benson recognized her distaste and apologized. "Look, Margaret," he said, reading off her nametag, "the doctors said they should make a full recovery. In fact, we're going to visit them right now if you want to come. I've heard Mordecai mention your name before, you two are friends, right?"

"_…Severe blood loss, a shattered beak…_"

She couldn't go. It was 8am. Between then and the next four hours the restaurant would need the whole staff. She hated hearing so much about Monday's disaster, but the crowd wanted to watch. Their insignificant town was, for the time being, in the spotlight, and they felt famous for it. Regardless, hearing the anchors blurb on about her two friends and their injuries made her uneasy. She poured four piping hot servings into the shop's signature white disposable cups. "Just in case they wake up," she said, ringing up only two.

As the two got back into their beaten golf cart, Skips lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. It burned down to the quarter-mark. Benson knew not to lecture him, though he almost did out of habit. The two sipped their hot beverages as the drove toward the city hospital.

Rigby felt his friend drifting away in the dark. Their spiritual proximity was fading, and as far as he could tell his friend had almost departed from the void. It was cold once more, but there was another presence. It was dark and unfriendly. He could hear it slithering all around him, just out of reach. The distant flashes of another memory approached him, but he did not want to face it alone. Its pieces flew by him, much like before, in quicker succession with each wave. The darkness gave way to the scene of a dimly lit pizza restaurant.

* * *

><p>TUESDAY, JUNE 8, 2004<p>

He dropped another quarter into the noisy cabinet and hit start. He wasn't any good, but it helped ease his impatience. The sign in front of him lit up. It was a carnival themed pinball game, and it was adorned with chrome details and twisted images of fantastical carnival rides. He pulled the plunger back as far as it could go and released it. The silver ball shot out onto the playing board and bounced around a couple times, lighting up a few of the bonus letters that spelled out "FREE-BALL!" before slipping right between the two flippers. He grimaced at the sight of his failure. He tried again, this time wailing on the two buttons on the sides of the machine as fast as he could. He achieved similar results. The silver ball bounced off the tip of the right paddle and then the left one retracted, propelling the ball backwards into the dead zone.

Mordecai scrubbed a circular pan with a piece of steel wool. A large portion of the thing was caked with fried mozzarella. It was a nuisance to remove. The sink that he worked at was a large basin filled to the brim with pans, plates, cooking utensils and loose food particles. He grabbed a scraping tool. It was a flat rectangle of aluminum whose edge had been curled into a circle. He dug one end of it under the sliced of burnt cheese and pried. It chipped off the pan and sank slowly into the murky water.

The third ball shot flew out of the chamber and onto playing field. It bounced off of a few bumpers and slammed into a well-timed right swing. It popped back up into the rear of the machine and landed on a silver track. The sounds of a rollercoaster rang out as the ball slid down the shoot, zigzagging and rattling as it went. It landed next to the left paddle and Rigby pounded its button with his fist. The ball shot up once again, lighting up a few more letters in the bonus area of the playing field. The better he did, the more noise the machine made. As his excitement started to exceed his means to contain himself he let out a holler which Mordecai heard from the distant dish pit.

Mordecai chuckled at his friend. It was the third time that week Rigby had hung around waiting for him to get out of work. His new job sucked, but it served its purpose. The two were saving up for something awesome, and though Rigby had yet to find a job he was qualified for he did provide some much needed moral support. A slow train rattled behind the rear wall of the restaurant, and through the tiny window he caught glimpses of the colorful graffiti written on the side of it. Tonight had been relaxed. It was a Tuesday night and he had been the only dishwasher on call. It was eleven o'clock, and the restaurant had closed two hours earlier. The manager had left at closing and Mordecai had let Rigby in to hang out while he finished cleaning the dishes and mopping the floor.

Rigby's third attempt lasted a whole five minutes. His longest round ever was brought to an end when he lost his footing on the glossy red bar stool that he had been playing off of. He fell to the ground and landed on his back. He managed to get back on the stool in time to watch his third ball fall between the two paddles. He nearly smashed the glass with his fist when he heard a soft "caw!" from the back of the restaurant. It surprised him nearly every time Mordecai did that. He had recently developed the habit of using it as an arbitrary attention getter when addressing Rigby. The raccoon scampered behind the counter to where Mordecai was.

"Dude, I'm going on a smoke break, care to join?" Mordecai said, peeling the yellow rubber off his tired wings. It was a wonder that the restaurant was equipped with gloves designed for people of his species. Rigby didn't particularly want to smoke, but if it meant being away from the machine that tormented him while eating his money he was down. He hadn't spoken with Mordecai since he had been let in a half hour earlier. The two stepped out back. The blue jay gripped the sides of the new pack of the cigarettes and smacked the top end against his free palm several times. It was something that he had seen in a music video. Mordecai had purchased the cigarettes to celebrate his recent 18th birthday. They sat down on a stoop next to the dumpster. The train was still rolling by in slow motion and the artwork that decorated the countless carriages was tasteless and beautiful all at once.

On one of the carriages the word "faggot" was printed in all capitols. It was gorgeous, golden, and adorned with vines and violet colored diamonds. Whether the piece was created out of hate or irony was unclear, but it was nonetheless beautiful. Mordecai peeled the plastic off the top of the pack and used his beak to fish out a cigarette. He flicked his green lighter, and on the second try he lit the end of the cigarette, inhaling as it burned. He coughed. It wasn't the first cigarette he had tried, but it was still painful to inhale. He passed the cigarette to Rigby who took a deep drag and blew a couple O shapes with his mouth. Mordecai was impressed.

"Whoa, where'd you learn that," he asked, reclaiming the cigarette. Rigby shrugged. It was just something that he had seen on TV and considered trying. He was successful at it only because it worked the first time. Rigby was gifted in many things, but the things that didn't click with him right away were usually left alone. He considered things that required patience and dedication to be cumbersome and discouraging. The train's tail rolled out of view and exposed what had been behind it. A single light hovered above the tracks. It flickered like a candle and made the scene seem more organic then it actually was.

Mordecai flicked the cigarette to discard the stray ash that clung to the end of it before taking another drag. He tried to blow some smoke rings and failed miserably. Rigby didn't have the heart to tell him that it was an impossible thing to do with a beak. Between drags of the cigarette their conversation was exceptionally regular. Nothing particularly clever or profound was said. Mordecai calculated how big his paycheck was going to be by the end of the week while Rigby listened. Rigby loved hearing Mordecai's voice. He didn't understand why, but he looked forward to hanging out with Mordecai more than anything else. Mordecai seemed to look forward to other things.

"So how are we gonna get you a job dude?" Mordecai asked. They had both applied for the same jobs at a coffee shop, a comic book store, a video rental store and a pizza restaurant. Rigby had gotten interviews with the coffee shop and the video rental place but neither had hired him.

"Dude, I don't think I'm going to be able to get a job," Rigby lamented as he lit another cigarette.

"What do you mean," asked Mordecai.

"This world isn't designed for people like me, man. I can't lift anything, I'm too short, I suck at like, everything," Rigby explained. It was out of character for him to be so self-deprecating. In a way he was asking Mordecai to tell him otherwise, but that also would have been out of character. Mordecai simply shrugged it off.

"I'm sure we'll find you something," he replied as he turned back into the restaurant to finish cleaning the dished and mopping the tiles. Rigby was left alone. As the memory faded, the details of the train yard flickered out of existence and he was once again left in the dark prison that his soul occupied.

* * *

><p>Mordecai slowly opened his eyes. The room was dark save for a window that let in some stray moon rays and the outline of a door. It was thin rectangle made of bright yellow light. He tried to lift his head but found it to be far too heavy. He attempted to speak, but his mouth felt bound and would not open. His efforts to call for help were muffled, but audible. He heard movement in the room with him. He heard a metallic snap and suddenly he was bathed in unforgiving light. He saw a concerned gumball machine holding the light switch as though it would fall if he released it. Benson rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with his free hand. For the first time, Mordecai was happy to see his boss. Benson rushed to the bed and his expression turned to joy.<p>

"Oh my god, he's awake. Skips, he's awake go get the doctor!" Benson cackled as he spoke, overwhelmed with relief. Skips shook himself of the sleep that had occupied him and rushed out the door. Benson laughed and gave his employee a noogie. The physical contact hurt like hell, but Mordecai felt ingratiated by his boss. Skips returned in moments with a human doctor. The man was in his forties and had a bushy mustache. He came to Mordecai's bedside and shined a small flashlight in his eyes. Mordecai grabbed the man's arm with his right wing and tried to speak, but failed once more. The doctor was taken aback. Mordecai wasn't supposed to be strong enough to move yet. Mordecai struggled to be heard, and couldn't figure out what was keeping his beak closed. He touched his beak and felt medical tape. His mouth was taped shut with only his nostrils exposed.

"Calm down, calm down. Mordecai, we had to tape your beak shut. It fractured from the fall," explained the doctor. Mordecai didn't care. His thoughts were with Rigby. He knew that he probably wouldn't have survived if Rigby hadn't bit the creature. Mordecai pounded his fists against the bed in frustration. He heard a loud beeping sound and noticed that he was hooked up to a life support system. The three others in the room attempted to calm him down. Skips had the idea to get Mordecai a pen and a piece of paper from the office next door, which he grabbed ungraciously. He scribbled something on the blank sheet and showed the doctor. It was one word.

"Rigby?"

The doctor exchanged nervous glances with the Benson and Skips, and this agitated and frightened Mordecai. He thrashed about, attempting to remove himself from his hospital bed. Skips restrained him, telling him to calm down. The doctor spoke in a very calm voice.

"Mordecai, your friend is alive. When he bit the creature he ingested some of its blood. We aren't quite sure what's wrong with him, but I assure you his vitals are fine; in fact we were more worried about you. Up until now we weren't sure if you were going to make it. You took on quite a beating…"

Mordecai took the sheet of paper from the doctor and scribbled on it once again.

"May I see him?"

The doctor looked at the note sideways with traces of critique in his expression. Before he could detest the idea, Skips interrupted him.

"It might not be such a bad idea. Rigby's ailment isn't of this world. It's supernatural. Having his friend nearby could help him." Skips was right, and the doctor couldn't argue with him. Skips had more experience with the supernatural. The man held the bridge of his nose.

"Well, alright, we'll have to move his bed and all of this equipment, but if Skips says it will help…"

Mordecai looked up at the fluorescent lights that passed him by overhead. The light was abrasive against his eyes and yet the motion of each tube of light's passing was soothing. He had just started to notice a dull pain in his back. His wounds had been stapled shut with large metal brackets, and the cuts still hadn't quite healed. His beak was itchy under all of the tape, but what was bothering him the most was the fact that he was conscious and Rigby wasn't. As he watched the flickering rods pass overhead he thought about the terror that he had felt, and of his friends bravery. Rigby wasn't normally so courageous, and yet he had risked his life so valiantly. The light above him was replaced with a cool darkness as he was brought into Rigby's room. The room had many beds with curtains in between them. Together, the doctor and Skips lifted Mordecai onto the bed closest to Rigby, being careful not to disconnect the devices from the bird's arms. Mordecai pretended to fall asleep.

Rigby sensed that his friend's spirit was close once more. The memory of the cigarette drifted back into his hand. The light in the train yard flickered back into existence. He could hear the sink draining in the kitchen behind him. Mordecai appeared in the doorway behind him holding a plastic trash bag. The restaurant's dumpster was already open, so he tossed it in. Rigby watched his friend in the flickering light. He felt something inside of him that was joyous at first, then afraid, then ashamed. He flicked the finished cigarette onto the train tracks.

"Well, that's everything," Mordecai said. He slapped his hands off of each other in celebration. Rigby didn't acknowledge his friend. He hung his head between his knees and looked at his bare feet. Mordecai approached him. He didn't like seeing Rigby like this. It annoyed him considerably. He had been working all night and he didn't feel like giving him a pep talk.

"C'mon man, let's get out of here," he said coldly. Rigby was unresponsive. "Dude, let's go, I clocked out. We're all set." Rigby stood up silently and the two began their walk back to Mordecai's house. Rigby's head was heavy with grief. "What's wrong man, " he said, trying to coax his friend out of his funk.

"I don't know. I don't want to talk about it." They took a few more steps next to the train tracks, and Rigby waited for his friend to attempt coaxing him again. "Well," Rigby asked.

"What," Mordecai replied.

"You're supposed to try and cheer me up."

"I was trying to cheer you up, you said you didn't want to talk about it."

"You know I didn't mean that."

"Well, Rigby, maybe you should try being sincere some time. It's not my job to gauge everything you say, and it's definitely not my job to cheer you up when you're being a baby." Rigby's depression was quickly becoming anger. "It's my job," he continued, "to scrub filthy toilets, filthy floors and filthy dishes while you waste money sucking at pinball."

Rigby punched Mordecai in the knee, and Mordecai punched him back, knocking him over. The guilt washed over him right away. Rigby got up slowly as Mordecai watched with apologetic eyes.

"Dude, I'm so…" Rigby cut him off with a quiet "fuck you," and headed in the other direction. This time, it was Mordecai who was left alone under a flickering spotlight.

Mordecai waited until Skips and the doctor had long left the room. He slowly sat up, struggling against the pain that filled his entire body. He shifted his legs so they hung over the right side of the bed. He planted both of them on the cold tiles and stood up, being careful not to disconnect any of the machines that were attached to him. He inched towards Rigby's bed with little steps. Rigby's blanket rose and sank with the calm rhythm of his unconscious breath. Mordecai leaned over Rigby's bed and placed a hand on the blanket. His friend's heartbeat was enough to calm him into a deep sleep. He had never slept standing up before. Outside, the world was still. A clock tower announced the arrival of midnight and Wednesday's end.

* * *

><p><em>Hey all! sorry i was a little late on this chapter. Starting this week I'm writing music for each chapter, you're free to listen to the songs, and I'm making them available for free. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you again next week!<em>

_Soundcloud dot com/rs-august/wednesday-august-4th_


	5. Thursday, August 4th

It washed over his entire body. It was that familiar feeling of lust, only amplified significantly. For a moment his eyes opened. He could not move, but he could see the cold tile floor, the bright outline of the closed door, and his friend's plush white feathers. He could see them moving in and out with the rhythm of his breath. The image was both exciting and upsetting. His friend had disappointed him so many times, but his loyalty had never faltered. The moonlight danced across his white stomach. His breathing allowed different angles of refraction, and for the first time Rigby noticed that Mordecai's feathers had a slight sheen to them. He wanted to feel them. He wanted to know if they felt as nice as they looked. In his half-consciousness his thoughts were unaffected by his ego that told him otherwise. The white feathers reminded him for a moment of life. He had been spiraling in the dark for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like to be alive. He managed to open his mouth to say something, but was pulled back into the darkness by an unseen force before he could speak. His body jerked a few times as his eyes closed once more.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 4th

Mordecai awoke. It was still dark. He looked upon the raccoon in front of him. His wing rose and sank with his friend's breath. He was groggy, and in a good deal of pain, but his instinct told him to stay where he was. He noticed Rigby's face. It was not totally expressionless. It was the face of longing. Mordecai heard footsteps coming toward the door to their room and quietly slipped back into his bed, being careful not to disconnect his IV. The door opened slowly. He saw the silhouette of an unfamiliar woman. He assumed she was a nurse. She was thin, possibly human. She didn't recognize that he was awake, so she closed the door as quietly as she had opened it.

Back at the park, things were quiet. The sun had just begun its trek across the sky, Benson had just woken up in his apartment across town, and Pops was already in the park kitchen reading his Mustache Monthly magazine, waiting for him to arrive. They were both morning people. Neither even needed an alarm clock. Muscleman slept soundly in his trailer under a thin, dirty blanket, Skips was in his garage, repairing some of Monday's damage, and High Five Ghost was hovering above a large oak tree somewhere in the middle of the park. He was looking for something, though he did not quite know what it was.

Margaret had set her alarm for 8am. She wasn't supposed to come in to work until later that night, but she had decided to wake up early to visit her friends at the hospital. The street was bustling with morning commuters. Their town was a diverse bunch and they had a strong sense of community. She stopped by the coffee shop on the way to pick up a few snacks and coffees for the two. Her friend Eileen was working the morning shift, and the two exchanged friendly greetings before she departed for the Hospital.

Benson came in through the kitchen door as he normally did, looking a tad more stressed than usual. Pops greeted him with some morning banter while Benson put on a pot of coffee. Benson forced himself to oblige his friend, but he was really quite irate. Ever since Mordecai and Rigby had been admitted to the hospital the whole park had been behind schedule. It was more an issue of morale than of staff. Pops, in his usual naïve self, pointed out a few particularly exquisite mustaches in his magazine and Benson pretended to care. As Benson poured himself a hot cup of coffee he looked out the window at the tree that High Five Ghost was perched atop. The image was gorgeous, though Benson didn't think much of it. He was preoccupied with the morale of his staff. Mordecai was conscious, and that helped a little, but Rigby's condition was troubling.

Back at the hospital, Margaret had just arrived. Mordecai opened his eyes once more, and was greeted by a familiar silhouette this time. She hurried to his bedside and gave him a hug. It was at once painful and invigorating. She smelled nice. She noticed his beak injury and instantly empathized. She knew that it was a sensitive organ. His eyes told of his gratitude. She looked into them and smiled. She put down the snacks, knowing well that neither could enjoy them, though sentiment was appreciated. His attention turned back to Rigby who was still completely unconscious. She looked at him with similar concern.

"You really love him, don't you?"

An unfamiliar voice rang out in the darkness. It was loud and alien. Rigby looked around for a source, but he could find none. He was frightened.

"More than yourself even?"

Its body floated into view. It was a small orb of light surrounded by black tendrils. Rigby was mortified, not by its appearance, but by its words. They were words that he had never wanted to hear.

"Do you think he loves you? Do you think he shares your pain?"

Rigby contorted in his sleep and Mordecai and Margaret took notice.

"Rigby, don't be frightened. I am not trying to hurt you, I am only trying to understand." The creature floated closer and Rigby looked into its body. It was bright, and in it he could make out the images of people staring at him. They were made of shadow.

"Get away from me," Rigby cried. It did not comply. Its many faces looked into him. They were not angry, just concerned.

"Rigby, please…"

"You tried to kill my friend," Rigby shouted.

"I was frightened. I knew I was going to die soon…"

"You died because you tried to kill us!"

"Rigby, I know it's hard to understand, but time doesn't work that way." It wrapped one of its tendrils around Rigby's arm. It continued: "My life has ended this way countless times. On that day, I felt that I was going to die. I did the only thing I could do. I panicked. Your friend is lucky to have you." Rigby did not fight it this time.

"I'm still pissed at you," replied the floating raccoon. The creature chuckled a bit.

"I can understand that," it remarked. Its light became a rosy color with every word. It seemed like it meant well.

"I can't make up for what I did to you and your friend. It was an awful thing. I can, however, try and help you. You have some beautiful memories, Rigby. Very beautiful."

"Yeah, what's up with that anyways, what is this place? Why do all these stupid memories keep happening," Rigby complained.

"Stupid? I didn't think they were stupid. I thought they were lovely. Raw, confused emotions. When you get to be my age you forget what that feels like." The monster's remark sounded a bit complacent to Rigby.

"Beautiful? What, Mordecai being a tool? He never even tries to understand…"

"You've never told him how you feel, how do you expect him to understand?"

"What do you mean how I feel? What do you care anyways?" Rigby was getting fed up with this monster and its implications.

"Just look for a second," it replied. Rigby's eyes opened. He saw the hospital room once again. He saw Margaret and Mordecai. They were overjoyed at the sight of his apparent consciousness. He was still immobile, though he tried to speak.

"Look how much they care about you. Do you think anyone feels that way about me?"

Margaret ran to find a doctor, and his eyes closed again before she returned.

"Love can be a confusing thing, Rigby."

"There's that word again! I don't love him! Shut up, what do know about feelings anyways? You're a thing, a goddamn monster."

"True. I am a monster. I don't understand, but from what I've observed, and felt, from your memories, I'd say that you've been hurt by your friend immensely. I can also see that you wouldn't rather be anywhere but by his side."

Rigby looked down at his hovering feet, thinking about what the creature had told him.

The creature continued: "Remember when he touched you? The way it made everything better when you were spiraling in the dark? Maybe you want him to touch you again…"

Rigby swung a fist at the creature and his arm passed through it as though it were made of gas. It laughed at him.

"That's what I like to see - that rawness. You have a lot of feelings Rigby. You're very lucky. " Rigby was beginning to detest this beast.

"What the hell do you want from me?" he shouted. They floated in silent fixation for a moment. Its light became much dimmer, flickering only slightly every so often. It let go of Rigby's arm and it started drifting away from him. When it was far away enough that it was almost out of sight, it finally answered Rigby's question.

"I have witnessed your life, I have felt your pain. I have felt the emotions that you've kept from yourself selfishly. However, I have seen the way your world gets brighter when he's around, and I've felt the shame that comes with it. What do I want from you? I want you to stop running from yourself before you become a monster like I did.

Before it disappeared completely, it made one last remark.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Give this to Skips for me. He'll know what to do with it." It tossed something to Rigby, which he caught with his right hand. He opened his fingers and looked at the thing quizzically. It was a smooth green and purple striped sphere, about the size of a marble. Before he could judge what it was that the creature had given him, his eyes opened. He saw Margaret, an older human with an exquisite mustache and Mordecai, who had incidentally ripped out his IV when he got out of bed in a hurry. Rigby was choking. He lurched for breath but could not get any air in his lungs. Mordecai instinctively slammed one of his fists down on Rigby's chest and the small sphere shot four feet in the air. It came back down and hit him in the eye before pattering against the tiles and rolling away.

"Ow!" he shouted, before being scooped up by Mordecai and squeezed. His friend smelt nice.

"What happened?" he asked between gasps. His friend's welcome assault made it difficult to speak.

"Get off of me man," Rigby squeaked.

Mordecai dropped his friend back into his cot. Mordecai didn't mean to be so rough; he was just so overwhelmed with relief. Mordecai tried to speak, but it came out something like, "Mffs ghhf tn tnee ooh mmn!"

"It's good to see you too, dude," Rigby replied, catching his breath. The doctor calmly explained that he had been comatose for a couple days while Margaret knelt down and picked up the strange marble.

"… and apparently, up until a few moments ago you were convulsing, saying something about monsters…"

Margaret wiped the slime off of the marble and presented it to Rigby.

"What the heck is this thing anyways? How'd it get in your mouth?"

"I have no idea," Rigby replied. "I've never seen it before." He seemed remarkably at ease for someone who had just come out of a coma. He yawned and reclined into his bed.

"So, like what, are we getting paid for this? We were technically in a work related accident... Whoa." Rigby noticed the huge scar that ran along the length of his friends back. It looked like the stitching on the grip of a football. He had an overwhelming urge to poke it. Mordecai slapped Rigby's hand away, and Rigby crossed his arms in a huff.

"Are they always like this," the doctor asked Margaret.

"Yeah…" she said as the two started bickering incessantly. She laughed a little bit to herself. Even without the use of his mouth, Mordecai was a worthy opponent to Rigby's outlandish arguments. The doctor left the room to call Benson and notify him of Rigby's improved condition.

Back at the house, Skips was finished with his repairs to the damaged golf cart and had begun adding some modifications. He had always wanted a six-speed. Benson opened the door to Skips' garage to tell him the good news. Skips slid out from under the golf cart holding a wrench. He seemed indifferent to the news, but he was actually quite relieved. He had been the one who brought the two out there in the first place, so he couldn't help feeling at least a little responsible. He was also a little bent up about destroying the creature. He had known it for a long time, and he felt a bit of sentimentality for it. Regardless, the sternness in his brow hid all of his feelings. He turned the key in the ignition of the golf cart to see if it would take the modifications he had made. The engine roared to life with the initial jerk of the key, and then adopted a healthy purr. Benson and Skips smirked with satisfaction at the sound and hopped into their respective seats. Skips shifted into first and slowly let his left foot off the clutch, transferring his weight to his other foot. It was apparent that the vehicle had gained a good amount of power. It flew out of the garage and Skips shifted into second, and when he had gained enough speed he shifted into third and so on.

Back at the hospital, it was apparent that Rigby understood every single muffled word that came out of Mordecai, much to the confusion of both the doctor and Margaret. Their bickering had ceased and they were back to enjoying each others company. Mordecai was more patient than normal because he was still too happy to notice how obnoxious Rigby's behavior was. Rigby was already thinking of ways he could use the "I saved your life" card to blackmail his friend, and Mordecai was thinking of all the ways he could hug Rigby without coming across as a weirdo. Hugs were generally on their "no" list for obvious reasons, but Mordecai thought that this was a special circumstance. He decided that he would wait until he had full control of his beak again to attempt such a complex maneuver.

"Hey doc, how about some grub? I'm starving," asked Rigby.

"I brought some food," Margaret said, presenting her generous basket of snacks. There were bags of candy, chips, two coffees - which had gone cold by now - and a variety of muffins. The muffins were a day old so Margaret had been able to get them for free from work. Rigby snatched a bag of sour gummy worms and poured half of them into his mouth. He washed them down with the stale coffee without chewing and shuddered with pleasure as the caffeine and sugar hit his system at the same time. Mordecai doubled over in muffled laughter and pounded his fist on the side of his bed. The doctor was outraged and grabbed both items out of Rigby's hands.

"What the heck is wrong with you," barked the doctor as Rigby sank into his sugar high. It wasn't the first time he had acted out to get Mordecai's attention.

"Eat some of the muffins or something, you haven't eaten for days and the first thing reach for is the gummy worms?" he lectured.

Benson and Skips pulled up in front of the hospital with a loud screech. They made their way to Mordecai and Rigby's hospital room. Rigby wasn't overjoyed to see Benson, and he still had a bone to pick with Skips over the fact that he disappeared when the monster attacked, but other than that, he was in uncommonly high spirits.

"It's good to see you awake, Rigby," Benson said softly. Rigby gave him a little smile and then chomped into one of the stale muffins. Mordecai watched his friend eat and realized that he was a bit hungry himself. Benson noticed Mordecai's interest in the food and asked the doctor if he had eaten at all. The doctor informed him that his IV had been delivering nutrients into his system and that he couldn't eat until the dressings on his beak had been removed.

"Well when can you take them off?" Benson asked. The doctor approached Mordecai and touched his beak, pressing to fingers into the spots that he knew were loose. They felt much more solid than they had the day before.

"Well I'll be…" he said. Astonishingly, it appeared that the bandages were in fact ready to come off. He unwrapped the long rag from Mordecai's beak while Rigby watched. They revealed a jagged scar from where his beak had cracked. Rigby thought that the scar looked very cool. He was actually getting a little bit jealous of his friend's wounds.

"Why don't I get any cool scars?" he whined, looking down at his unscathed body. Mordecai rubbed his bare beak and felt the deep ridge of the fracture that ran down the length of it. His heart sank a bit. He had never been particularly vain about his physical appearance, but he had also never had a scar on his face either. He felt insecure for a moment, but Margaret eased his worries.

"It looks really cool, Mordecai," she said, petting his head. He tried to hide the fact that he was blushing. He wasn't used to receiving this much attention from her, and he fancied her quite a bit. He was realizing that he was more comfortable around her when he couldn't speak. He felt obligated to reply, but as always, he was an awkward mess. She didn't mind. She always thought that his nervousness was somewhat charming.

"At least you got a cool souvenir, Rigby," she said.

"What, the stinkin' marble?" Rigby asked, holding it in his open palm.

"Marble?" chimed Skips. Rigby handed him the small sphere and Skips went about inspecting it. He held it up with his two fingers and examined it closely. After a moment's silence, Skips decided what it was that he held in his hand.

"Looks like our little Rigby's a mother," he said chuckling to himself. Rigby gave him a sideways glance that begged for clarification.

"It's an egg."

Rigby was revolted and Mordecai laughed at his friend's expense. The commotion died down quickly. One by one, starting with Margaret, the visitors left. Outside their room, Benson was arguing with the doctor about their condition. The doctor insisted that they needed more time to recover, but Benson needed his employees. To his surprise, the park's productivity had fallen significantly since they had been incapacitated. Skips waited in the purring golf cart out front and continued examining the small egg. The thing made him smile. It reminded him that he wasn't the oldest living thing on this planet. It brought him a bit of comfort.

The mid day melted into dusk as the sun set slowly over the horizon. Margaret had begun her shift at the coffee shop. The night's guests were an energetic bunch, ready to consume the arts that the posters outside had promised them. It was an open mic night. They had dressed the place up to seem a little more hip and artsy. It was pleasantly dim. Several candles of different heights had been placed on the many tables of the small restaurant and a lone microphone had been set up on a makeshift stage. The crowd was a low murmur. It muted itself as a short human male approached the microphone, demanding their attention. His voice was at once calm and arresting. His poem was beautiful. It evoked the sleepless emotions of the individual. It was like music, but its beauty masked its only flaw. It was abstract. It was merely a collection of words that made a beautiful picture. It didn't mean anything in particular. Whether that made it special or arbitrary was unclear, but its tone moved many members of the audience to tears. As the man took his bow, Margaret put on a fresh pot of coffee. His would be a difficult act to top.

It was dark once more in the hospital room that Mordecai and Rigby shared. Rigby rested with his back to Mordecai, and Mordecai watched his friend in quiet fascination. The two had always been best friends, since before he could remember, and yet he still found it hard to believe how quickly Rigby had risked his life to save his own. Rigby had always come across as selfish, and yet Mordecai saw in him something that most did not. Rigby was insecure, and though the world is filled with the insecurity, Rigby's was a special case. The raccoon had an impossible time assuring himself. He felt small, weak and useless. Mordecai had always accommodated his friend's weakness, but at the same time his accommodations had always been dodgy attempts at sounding insincere. The thought of saying anything genuinely sentimental to his friend always made him a bit uncomfortable. Still, he owed his life to his friend, so he knew that it was only right to say something.

"Thanks for saving my life Rigby," he said in a low tone.

Rigby turned towards him and looked into his eyes. He didn't say a word.

"I was just thinking about us, and how we've known each other for so long. I know you've been acting like this is no big deal, but we could have died."

Rigby smiled a bit, but his expression poorly disguised his fear at the thought of losing Mordecai. "Dude, it's fine. We're both okay, and that's what's important, right?"

"It's not fine. I mean it is, but it isn't. I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What's that?"

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Try to save me? You were so fearless, and I just, I don't know, I don't think I would have been so brave."

"I wasn't going to let that bastard eat you alive. I did what anyone would have done. I don't know what I'd do if you were…"

Mordecai got up from his bed and made his way toward his friend. He lifted Rigby up and hugged him. Rigby did not immediately reciprocate. His body was purposely limp.

"Thank you," Mordecai repeated. Rigby wrapped one of his arms around his friend's neck and smiled a bit. This was indeed a special circumstance.

Back at the coffee shop, the mood had died down and the lights were back on. The cafe had been closed for a few hours and the kitchen had been restored to its morning splendor. Margaret's phone rang as she hung up her apron in the back room. The screen read "Charlie," and she flipped open the device with delight. Charlie was a guy that she had recently met. He was a gentle bearded hipster who always took her thoughts into consideration. Margaret was a forerunner of a social movement that involved breaking down the barriers of race and species, and as a result she ended up dating many humans. Although the movement insisted that it was about breaking down cultural barriers, it was mostly an excuse for people of other species to indulge the idea of dating humans. Within the other species, particularly in women, the desire to look and act human was becoming pervasive. For Margaret, dating a human helped her confidence. It was as though she had upgraded from "bird." They talked for a few minutes, and then he invited her over to his place. She knew she would be spending the night.

Back at the hospital, Mordecai slowly eased his way back into his cot. "So how about Margaret today, huh? Did you see the way she looked at me?" Mordecai asked, returning to his bed. Rigby did not like having this conversation.

"Yeah, I guess she was being pretty cool today," Rigby said. He didn't sound so sure.

"Pretty cool? Dude, she is so goddamn hot. She's like, perfect," Mordecai mused. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, I guess so, if you're into that sort of thing," Rigby said.

"What do you mean? What's wrong with her?" Mordecai asked.

"I don't know, I just don't see myself dating a bird for some reason." Rigby's words made Mordecai feel a bit sad.

"…What's wrong with birds?"

"Oh crap, I'm sorry dude I didn't mean it like that. I just don't like Margaret that way ," Rigby regressed. The last thing he wanted right now was to hurt Mordecai's feelings.

"Well who do you like, Rigby?"

He couldn't think of anyone.

"I don't know. You're pretty cool I guess…"

"I mean girls, like who do you think is sexy?"

Rigby started feeling panicked. He thought hard about the people in his life that he truly wanted to be around, and he could only think of one. His chest felt strange. It felt like he was falling. The two were silent, and Mordecai felt guilty at making his friend feel awkward.

"Rigby, do you like girls?"

Rigby couldn't honestly answer that question without feeling like his friendship with Mordecai was in danger, so he didn't. He said nothing. Mordecai decided in the back of his mind not to put the pieces together. The subject of women obviously made Rigby uncomfortable, but Mordecai just attributed it to Rigby's immaturity. The two fell asleep in silence. That night, Rigby dreamed of his home being swept away by a giant wave.


	6. Friday, August 5th

She awoke alone in his bed. The window was closed. The stale scent of sex lingered in the air. Another scent was creeping into his bedroom. It smelled like food. She got herself out of her bed and made her way to his little kitchen. His apartment was similar to hers: bare, small and messy. She sat down and watched him cook. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tight fitting black undies. He looked back at her and smiled. He had a minor cut on his forehead from the night before when she had tried to kiss him. He was making a breakfast of eggs and cheddar cheese. It smelled wonderful.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 5th

Mordecai winced as the nurse pulled the huge staples out of his back. Rigby could only see the silhouette of his friend's operation through the thin veil that separated their cots. One by one, she yanked out the many metal brackets that had held his wound shut. She had injected him the appropriate painkillers, but it still hurt. She replaced the staples with a fine stitching which was also painful.

Rigby watched through the curtain with a sick curiosity. His eye twitched with every pained noise that pierced the silence. He was concerned. "Are you doing alright over there?" he asked aloud.

"Just… mmf… fine," Mordecai spouted between struggled gasps.

"Just checking," Rigby said, dipping his paw into the stash of candy that Margaret had provided him with. He unhappily munched a handful of jellybeans and gummy bears, eying his friend's pained shadow. The woman's hand came down, pierced his friend's back and came back up again. He likened the image to a horror film that he had seen once. Though Rigby claimed to enjoy watching scary movies, they had always easily disturbed him. Oddly, the horrors that he encountered in real life never seemed to affect him as much.

The doctor rushed in to supervise the alterations to Mordecai's wound. Rigby quickly hid the candy that he had been gorging himself on that morning. The entire situation was a bit uncomfortable. At the hospital it was even more difficult to get away with sleeping in, and the lack of privacy was getting on his nerves. He missed his old bedroom back at the park, and having Mordecai to himself.

It was an especially hot day, even for August. Back at the park, Muscle Man pushed a motorized lawn mower while his phantom friend watered the short grass that it left in its wake. Work had been exhausting that week. Muscle Man was a glutton for punishment, but this was borderline slave labor. He wiped the thick sweat off of his forehead and peered through his other hand at the rising sun. "This blows! Those two chumps better get back here soon."

Not far away, Pops was unlocking and opening the metal shutter that covered the window of the park's snack bar. The older gent sat at the register and twirled his thumbs. He looked around outside and was almost overwhelmed with how beautiful everything looked. He felt the familiar feeling of his face curling into a warm grin. He bounced a bit in his seat and waited impatiently as a few butterflies passed by. He laughed at them. It was odd. He didn't feel this way all of the time, but every day he would get flashes of euphoria. He couldn't control them, and he didn't particularly dislike them, but they were debilitating when he was on duty.

He watched a man wearing a green hooded sweatshirt approach the register and folded his hands together in anticipation. At the sight of Pops' bizarre expression, the hooded man turned around and walked the other way. Pops sank into his seat and his lip curled into a frown. He felt disappointed until he saw a friendly white blur in the distance.

Skips was dashing around the park making use of his heightened physical abilities. He had already repainted several benches, picked up countless pieces of litter and cleaned out the gutters. Even he had his limits. The sight of the snack bar brought relief to the overworked yeti, and he skipped his way over to the register to get himself a cold drink. Pops was giddy at idea and decided to make it a game. When Skips arrived in front of him, Pops decided that he was going to pretend that they were strangers.

"Greetings patron! What can I get you on this fine day?" he said in his best sales pitch voice. Skips was amused, though his permanent deadpan hid his feelings as always.

"Just a soda. It's a hot one today," Skips replied.

"Right-o! One 'soda' coming up!" Pops recited, winking on the word "soda." Skips watched intently as the old gent took out a bottle of seltzer water and poured it into a glass that had obviously come from the kitchen. He opened the freezer and took out a bag of ice. After dropping a few frozen cubes into the cup, he added a spoonful of sugar and a few splashes of mixed fruit juice. He placed one of the plastic soft drink lids on the glass like a loose fitting hat and stabbed it with a straw. Its paper wrapper was removed save for a bit on the end to prevent germs from getting on the mouthpiece.

Skips received the sparkling beverage and stared at it for a very long time. Pops said, "It's my own recipe," quietly into the yeti's ear. Skips watched the ice dance around the glass for two rotations. Then, he took seventy-five cents out of his front pocket and dropped it in the tip jar. Pops cackled as the three coins rattled at the bottom of the plastic jar.

He turned around and headed back to his duties. Before resuming he took a sip of the very pink beverage. He smacked his lips to get a better understanding of the flavor and the smirked a bit. He muttered "not bad" to himself and continued on his way.

Back at the house, Benson tapped a clipboard nervously with his pen. The absence of his two worst workers had proved much more detrimental than he could have imagined. The workload was simply too much. He generally needed two people to run the snack bar, but he had assigned the job to Pops. Friday was generally busy and he knew that the job was too much for the large headed gent, but he had no other choice. He had given Muscle Man and HFG the task of mowing the enormous lawn, which was drying out because of the heat wave, and he assigned just about everything else to Skips. He was fed up. The morale was deplorable, he was paying his workers overtime for sub par work and to top it all off, he was handing out workers compensation to two injured slackers.

Pops somehow managed to keep the snack bar under control that day. It was a slow Friday, but for him it was still impressive. He felt like a maestro when he delivered people's packaged food orders. He was making an art of it, and his delivery was just as whimsical as his showmanship. The man confused half of the patrons; the other half thought his performance was charming. By the end of the day his tip jar was brimming with spare change.

Benson stomped his way into the kitchen and snagged the phone off of the wall. Why they had an old fashioned rotary phone was beyond him. Nevertheless, he angrily twisted the rotor to match the number of the hospital that hung on the fridge by a small red magnet.

Rigby looked out the window at the various people moving about outside. He hadn't moved all week and was wondering if he was allowed to. He had assumed that he couldn't, so he hadn't. "Hey doc, can I get up and go to the bathroom?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure, if you feel comfortable moving," replied the doctor.

"Wow, really? I can just, like, move around and junk?" he continued.

"Listen, kid, you can do whatever you want," the doctor replied, preoccupied with Mordecai's operation. He had almost no patience for the presumptuous raccoon. He found the little guy to be intolerable and rude. Rigby hopped out of his cot and ran out the door, stopping for a moment to observe the horrors of surgery. He winced as the nurse brought the needle through his friend's back once more and continued to the public restroom.

The smooth porcelain seat felt cold, but it contrasted the stale warmth of the bed that he had spent so many days in. The thrush of the water escaping through the drain echoed in the tiled room. Rigby hadn't seen such a generic bathroom in his entire life. He hopped up on high sink and washed his hands. The electric hand dryer proved to be a greater challenge. He leapt and straddled the machine with his legs, hitting the large metal button that brought hot air into his hands. The world wasn't designed for smaller individuals like himself. Rigby had learned this at an early age.

When he returned to his hospital room, Mordecai's surgery had been completed and the doctor was on the phone. Rigby could hear the crackled growl of his boss through the phone's earpiece. The doctor pleaded with the gumball machine. "I don't care if you need them, they aren't ready to go back to work… I know… Yes, we took the staples out… Look, I just don't think it's wise… There are still tests to be done and… yes… of course… well no, neither of them bleeding right now…"

Rigby felt ready to leave the hospital. He missed his home and he missed his roommate. His real roommate. He missed his uninjured, energetic and spontaneous friend. Rigby looked at Mordecai who was still lying on his stomach. He didn't look ready to leave. The doctor winced at Benson's final threats, which were followed immediately by a dial tone. He put the phone down slowly and sighed. "Mordecai? That was your boss. He thinks that you two are ready to go home and resume your duties, but I think its hogwash. You've both been through a very traumatic ordeal, you especially. Alas, that decision is not mine. It's yours. I do not condone you two leaving, but if you feel ready…"

"We're ready," the two said in unison.

They watched the city pass by from the back seat of the cart. Mordecai's body ached from the short walk to the vehicle, and Rigby felt great. Riding in carts was different from riding in cars. There was no enclosure. It was sort of like riding a very fast bicycle (or a very slow rollercoaster.) Benson rode passenger. He seemed cold and unsympathetic. Skips' face held a permanent smirk from the novelty of his new ride. Mordecai cringed with each imperfection in the road that they drove over.

"I hope Pops was okay running the snack bar today," Benson said as the cart slammed into another bump. The suspension needed some work.

"Okay? He did okay alright," replied Skips.

"What do you mean?" asked Benson.

"The guy must have brought in fifty dollars worth of tips," the yeti said.

"Holy crap really? Wow! How'd he manage that?" Benson asked in disbelief.

"Got a soda from him today and it was great. He's quite the host."

"Well that's great, I'm glad he's found something he's good at. What's he gonna do with the money?" Benson asked.

"He drew a face on the jar. He's keeping it in his bookcase."

"… ah."

When they arrived at the house, they were surprised to see that Pops had put together a delightful little party in honor of their return. There was a small table covered in a colorful plastic cloth. It held a small bowl of chips and some canned sodas. Pops was the only attendee, but his sentiment felt welcoming. Mordecai and Rigby stood at the little table and snacked on the small edibles. Muscle Man appeared in the door way with a THC fueled grin on his face. In his heart of hearts he was happy to see the two, even if he had some trouble presenting those feelings with compassion. Behind him, his cohort watched a loose floorboard with a look of delight. Muscle Man got between Mordecai and Rigby and wrapped his arms around their shoulders. It was uncomfortable and a bit stinky. The spirit watching the floorboard giggled a little.

"You know, if it wasn't for me and fives you two would be dead," the green guy said. He explained how High Five Ghost had sensed that the two were in trouble. Mordecai and Rigby watched each other's expressions of discomfort and waited for their insufferable friend to stop touching them. "… And then we ran to the house and told Benson. You should thank Fives. He's like a Jedi master or something. Isn't that right bro?"

High Five Ghost seemed complacent and inattentive. He was still fixated on the loose board. He giggled as Skips walked over it and stubbed his toe. His expression turned to disconnect and sorrow, and then suddenly to attentiveness and lucidity. He hovered to Muscle Man's side and asked, "Did you say something?"

"I was just telling these losers about how you and I saved their lives and junk," he said letting them go. Mordecai and Rigby moved closer together to avoid allowing Muscle Man the opportunity to get between them again. Muscle Man and High Five distracted each other with jokes while Mordecai and Rigby inched farther and farther away from them.

Skips grimaced at his stubbed toe while Pops put a record on his old fashioned player. He did a gentleman's dance alone in front of it. Benson stood against a wall drinking a soda alone, and Muscle Man and Fives continued their rude banter. The whole party felt awkward, but still, it was good to see the group all in the same room together. They were very much like a family. They were weird and sometimes annoying, yet they were probably some of the most important people in their lives. While it was nice to see their friends, they wanted to see their room even more.

Mordecai and Rigby snuck up the stairs to their barren room. They cracked the door and its familiar odor greeted them. It hadn't been entered in almost a week. Its musty smells beckoned them. Some weren't all too pleasant but their familiarity made them welcome and even comforting. Mordecai reached for the light switch but Rigby stopped him. The darkness was much too welcoming to pass up. It was just how they liked it. The moon illuminated the room just enough to broadcast its few features and make their beds known.

Mordecai flopped on his bed and gave an exaggerated sigh. He opened his eyes and saw the vague shape of his friend sitting on his own bed. His inky outline seemed too far away. Rigby's trampoline had always rested on its corner of the room, but to Mordecai it just felt more distant than usual. They had both decided to go to sleep then and there, but something about seeing Rigby so far away made it hard for him to rest. He peered through the darkness, trying to make out his friend's shape, but he couldn't.

Downstairs the tiny party was dispersing. It wasn't particularly late, but the event had been more of a formality than an actual celebration. Skips folded the small tablecloth that Pops had set the drinks and snacks on and Pops dissembled his record player.

As Skips made his way back to his house, he watched the moon. Its light guided his short walk. The moon was comforting to him. Rarely did Skips find something as old as he, and yet every night the moon was a reminder that there was a time before him.

Inside his apartment he had set up a terrarium where he had planted the strange egg that had come from Rigby. It was no longer just a simple marble. It had split open and rooted itself in the bed of ground donuts and grasshoppers that Skips had created for it. It was a strange creature. It was plant like in the sense that it had roots. Its roots were not vegetative, however. They were fleshy and green, and they wriggled like worms. Before climbing into bed, the yeti placed the terrarium on the windowsill. He figured that if normal plants needed sunlight, maybe this one needed moonlight.

Back in his room Rigby was shaking. His eyes shot open. The ceiling was moving. He looked around and saw Mordecai. He was dragging the trampoline closer to his own bed. Mordecai noticed that Rigby was lucid and stopped. He was a bit embarrassed. Rigby cocked his head to the side and eyed Mordecai suspiciously.

"Dude, what?" Rigby asked, totally befuddled. Mordecai could not explain himself without sounding strange, so after a few moments he decided that sounding strange was his only option.

"I… listen man, you just look so far away over there. I got so used to the way things were at the hospital." Mordecai scratched the back of his neck as he spoke. His free hand mimicked the honest inflections of his words. "Would you mind sleeping a little bit closer to my bed?"

Rigby saw nothing particularly trifling about the request, and yet it intimidated him. He and his friends had always played up the idea that they hated direct contact with each other, but they had always managed to end up tangled in some kind of brawl. Any sort of closeness other than that made him feel weird. He agreed to the odd request despite his reservations and Mordecai seemed grateful for it.

He grabbed the trampoline by its metal ridge once more and dragged it across the room. He brought it much closer to his own bed than Rigby thought he would. He seemed excited about it in a way that confused Rigby. The truth was, Mordecai wanted to be closer to Rigby because he felt safer that way. The attack had imprinted two things in his head; monsters are horrifying and dangerous, and Rigby is a beacon of safety. He wouldn't admit this, of course, but he implied it very heavily.

Rigby rolled himself into a comfortable position and attempted to sleep once again. He could see the space directly under Mordecai's bed from his low position. The space seemed cavernous and a bit spooky. From this angle the darkness was more oppressive than welcoming. He decided to turn in the other direction. He saw how large their room really was, and how much of it was totally unused. He pictured what his bed would look like the next morning, so far from its original spot, throwing off the balance that the room had before. It was a queer image.

He could hear the rhythmic breath of Mordecai sleeping. As he began nodding off himself he felt something bump into his back. He turned and looked at it. Mordecai had dozed off so close to the edge of his bed that his limp arm had slid out from under the sheets. Rigby felt a familiar but all too dreadful feeling in his gut. He didn't want to move the arm. It felt big and heavy and soft. He hadn't felt its presence like this in a very long time. Its warmth was welcoming but it brought with it an unfair pain. His chest burned and he felt as though there was a lump of something prickly in his throat. He wanted to know what it felt like, so he reached out and held his own paw against it. The hair on the back of his neck shot out and his toes curled into themselves at the sound of Mordecai's voice.

"Does it ever feel weird being so low to the ground?" the bird asked with a yawn.

"What," Rigby asked hesitantly. His heart was still pounding. Had he not noticed that they were touching? Was he doing it on purpose? He was supposed to be asleep.

"Your bed. It's so small," Mordecai replied, still half yawning.

"Oh, yeah… Well I'm used to it dude." The arm was still there but Rigby suppressed his odd feelings about it while he spoke to his friend.

"Remember when we first got here, and neither of us even had beds?" Mordecai chuckled at the memory. He continued: "We saved up for weeks and weeks, and when we went out to buy ourselves beds you got that game station and used the change to buy that little trampoline."

Rigby laughed too. "I guess I did, didn't I? I don't really mind sleeping on this baby. I've broken it in since then."

"Yeah…" Mordecai trailed off, lost in the memory. There was silence once again, and Mordecai lay there happily with his arm against his little friend. Rigby's feelings of unworthiness crept back into the core of his body when he started feeling too comfortable. When he could barely handle it any longer Mordecai broke the silence. "Welp, g'night dude. "

Mordecai brought his arm back up to his bed and rolled onto his other side, but not before giving his friend a little scratch on his head. Rigby's eyes shot open at the affectionate gesture. Normally he would have told the bird off for such acts of obvious kindness, but something in him told him not to. He couldn't understand why Mordecai was crossing so many of their established boundaries, but what bothered him more was the fact that he didn't want Mordecai to stop. He looked up at the tall bed and wished that he could climb in it. He punished himself for having such thoughts.

The infant creature bathed in the light of the moon as the clock struck midnight. From its window perch it could almost smell Rigby.

* * *

><p><em>Woo! sorry about the delay. I've been in a bit of a funk for the last couple weeks. Anyways, i forgot to write an author's comments last week. I'm sorry. Anyways, thanks to Demihuman for helping me edit, and thanks to all my readers for... well, reading!<em>

_In these next few weeks you're going to find out why this story is in the "M" section of ;)_

_so_

_stay tuned!_


	7. Saturday, August 6th Pt 1

It sat dormant in its glass prison under the light of the moon. The gentle rays caused tender reactions in its fleshy roots. It was a good feeling. It was a feeling of growth and nurturing. Its innocent mind was just forming, bonding with its previous conscious while crafting a new one. It could hear the soft sounds of another creature sleeping nearby. It could not see, but its other fine senses painted a map of its surroundings.

Back in his room Rigby slept soundly in the early hours of the day. The comfortable arm of his blue friend had once again found itself lightly propped up against his back. In his sleep he was surrounded by warmth. He felt the gentle pulse of his friend's heartbeat and it warped the auburn walls of his dream.

The creature sensed Rigby's organic reaction to the touch and it parroted his feelings. It removed a few of its roots from the nutrient-rich base of the terrarium and pressed them against the glass wall of its prison.

Skips awoke at the queer sound and got out of his bed to investigate the source of it. He clicked on the light and observed the little creature trying to escape its cell. This concerned him. He knew that in its current state it was relatively harmless. However, he also knew that it had the capacity to become the enormous monster that they had previously battled. When he got close, it buried its appendages back into the soil and returned to its original position. Something about its movements seemed embarrassed.

Across town, Margaret was fumbling through her purse for her keys. She was distressed and drunk. In the darkness the moths and other insects would have gone unnoticed, but the streetlight made their erratic flight paths all too visible. She heard her phone buzz and winced at the name that appeared on its display. The streetlight flickered into darkness momentarily. Its mechanisms were malfunctioning from the humidity.

She watched the phone ring and waited for it to stop. The display grew more and more warped as small droplets landed on it. They magnified its pixels in bubble shapes. She dropped the phone back into her bag and went back to looking for her keys.

SATURDAY AUGUST 6th

Mordecai awoke to the usual sounds of the house. He could hear a lawn mower buzzing loudly through the open window. It was unbelievable warm under his covers. He looked down to his left at Rigby's empty bed. He could hear the shower running a few doors down. He didn't feel particularly well rested but he knew that he had to wake up. As he got up he felt soreness all over. He took a few uncomfortable steps toward the door and heard an unfamiliar sound. Rigby was singing a little tune. It was some mainstream pop song that Mordecai didn't particularly care for, but Rigby was on key and Mordecai thought it very amusing.

Mordecai made his way to the bathroom door and listened closely with a sly grin on his face. As the chorus came back in he sang the back up harmony loud enough for Rigby to hear. Rigby stopped singing as the door burst open and Mordecai belted out in song.

"Dude, get out!" commanded the little raccoon.

"Chill man. I hope I didn't interrupt your 'special moment.' I'm just brushing my teeth," replied the blue jay in a mocking tone.

"I'm in here man! Privacy?" barked Rigby.

"'Privacy?' Dude you're naked all the time," Mordecai slurred. The toothbrush in his mouth muffled his words. "You act like I've never seen you in the buff before."

"This is different, I'm cleaning myself! Just get out, please." Rigby was getting sick of this.

Benson stomped his way up the stairs and into the bathroom where the two friends were bickering. "Rigby are you in there? I need to talk to you after your done."

Rigby was gritting his teeth. He grabbed a towel off the rack and turned off the faucet. The air was hotter than the water had been, but his fur didn't dry quickly. It was a muggy hot day and the double assault on his private time had killed his good mood. Rigby shot an angry glance at his friend as he took his pinky in the towel and dried out one of his ears.

Benson motioned the drenched raccoon to follow and led him out into the hallway. Mordecai was left finishing his oral chores while Benson began his important discussion with his insubordinate employee. "Okay Rigby. Now I know you guys have been through a tough ordeal this week, and I respect that, but I still expect you two to get all of your work done."

"Yeah man I got it," said Rigby, starting on his other ear.

"I mean it. If I catch you two slacking off I'm not gonna cut YOU any slack," replied the ornery gumball machine.

"Dude chill, we'll be fine," replied Rigby. He didn't have the energy to mouth off to his employer.

"And another thing, it's my understanding that Mordecai is still in pretty rough shape, so I expect you to help him out if he starts to drag behind," added Benson.

Rigby threw his hands up in distaste and attempted a rebuttal, but Benson stopped him. "Not another word."

Mordecai carefully removed the day-old bandage from the wound on his back. He grimaced at the sight of his unattractive scar and reapplied a clean gauss to the cut. He held both sides of the long cloth and realized that he wouldn't be able to tape it back on without the help of another. "Hey, can someone help tape me up?" he asked aloud.

Benson took the strips of medical tape and applied them to the gauss. He patted Mordecai on the shoulder before sending him on his way.

Mordecai and Rigby yawned and squinted at the hanging sun. Behind them, they heard Benson yell, "Where are all the damn glasses?" from the kitchen. They silently decided to distance themselves from the house. When they passed in front of Skips' house, he appeared in the doorway. "Hey fellas, c'mere. I wanna show you something."

They entered the yeti's odd little hut and were, as usual, dazzled by its retro décor. There was a bench press, a few Led Zeppelin posters and some new age spiritual gizmos and artifacts. There was also a rectangular terrarium covered by a dirty old towel. Skips grabbed the towel and yanked it, revealing the young creature he had planted a few nights before. The two friends let out a long "whoa" in unison, and Rigby quickly scrambled to get a closer look.

"So what," Mordecai snickered, "is that thing supposed to be Rigby's baby or whatever? It looks just like him."

Rigby turned around for a moment and glared, but didn't let the comment ruin his curiosity. He stared at it with wide-eyed fascination as it squirmed and shifted in its prison. He poked the glass playfully with his finger.

"Rigby don't tease it," Skips commanded. The three stared at it respectfully for a few minutes. Mordecai broke the silence with another sarcastic remark aimed at Rigby.

"Yep, I definitely see the resemblance. No, wait, I smell the resemblance too." Mordecai laughed at his own joke. Rigby turned and screamed "Shut up!" but as he did, he heard something slam against the glass. All three of them jumped at the noise and looked back. The creature had thrown itself against the side of its prison. Rigby backed away in fear, and as he did so did the creature.

"What the heck was that?" asked a paralyzed Mordecai. Rigby watched in horror as the slimy creature copied his movements. He raised his arms above his head, and it tore some of its roots out to mimic him. He brought them down to his sides and it did the same. His feelings of horror quickly gave to feelings of amusement and once again, fascination. He went through the motions of dancing, playing the air guitar, spinning in place and eventually pelvic thrusts. Then, he doubled over in laughter on the ground. It did the same.

"Dude that isn't funny, it's freakin twisted," shouted Mordecai, trying to make himself heard over Rigby's joyous cackles.

"Dude," Rigby began, struggling to overcome his own boisterous laughter. "Did you… did you see it humping? It was humping!" Rigby slowly sat up and wiped a tear from his eye with his whole fist. His giddiness was heavily contrasted by Mordecai's disgust and mild terror.

"Alright, that's enough you two," Skips said covering the terrarium once more with the dirty towel. "You guys have a lot of work to do today. Hop to it."

Skips could hear them bickering even after he closed his front door. After they were out of earshot, he lifted the towel once more and eyed the creature.

Mordecai struggled to cope with what he had seen. He couldn't understand why it disturbed him so much, but what bothered him more was Rigby's obvious lack of visual empathy. Rigby continued gushing over the infant creature and how cool he thought it was. Mordecai shoved Rigby in an attempt to interrupt his rant, so in return Rigby shoved back. Mordecai's leg buckled and he fell to the ground in pain. His body hadn't yet recovered from Monday's incident, and the blow definitely caught him off guard. He groaned in pain as Rigby scampered to his side.

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry man, here, let me help you up," Rigby yelled, trying to get Mordecai on his feet. He was too heavy. Mordecai gave a heavy sigh and brought himself up using his wings.

"Dude, forget it, it's fine," Mordecai said, recovering from the pain. His voice was without a tinge of malice. He wasn't used to being this weak, and he thought back on all the times he had knocked Rigby over without apologizing.

Rigby noticed that Mordecai's bandage had become crinkled in the fall and was peeling off of his body. In an attempt to reconcile, he stood on his toes and straightened the gauze and medical tape. Mordecai let his friend go about it, though he didn't really trust Rigby's handiwork. Rigby was clumsy.

They walked down the path and reacquainted themselves with the park's many features. Its grass was as green as ever, though a bit yellowed from lack of rain, and its many trees were as identical to each other as they remembered them. A shed appeared at the end of the path, and Mordecai twisted its padlock until it snapped open. Inside, they found all kinds of familiar equipment.

Rigby grabbed a pair of hedge clippers from off its hook on the wall. He grinned an awful grin and stared into its blades.

"You know you're not supposed to touch those," Mordecai lectured as he looked through the drawers of a red metal toolbox. "Besides, we aren't doing the shrubs today. Here, help me find the flathead."

"The screwdriver? That's in our room. We used it last week to get that tape out of the VCR, remember," Rigby asked, keeping his eyes on the clippers he held in his hands. He gave them a good squeeze and listened to the blades slide against each other. He chuckled when they finally came together.

"Crap, we need those," Mordecai groaned. "Rigby, would you mind going back to the house and getting them?" In his mind, he hoped that Rigby wouldn't resort to letting rock paper scissors decide whether he would or not. Even if he thought real hard about throwing rock, Mordecai habitually threw paper, and Rigby was carrying an awfully large pair of scissors.

Rigby was still feeling some guilt from knocking Mordecai over. He dropped the shears, gave a nod and strolled out of the shed, leaving the door open behind him.

Mordecai bent over and picked up the discarded tool. He brought it to its hook and as he hung it up, he noticed a dusty old photograph clinging to the wall behind an old wooden shelf. He reached behind the shelf, picked it up and brushed off the yellow old filth that had taken to it over the years. His eyes widened at the sight of the nostalgic image.

JULY 4th, 1987

Mr. Maelard readied his outdated camera and shouted, "Places everyone!" It was a beautiful summer day, and the sun was high in the sky. Skips and Benson stood side-by-side. On Benson's left was a younger looking Pops, and in front of Pops knelt a teenage human who wore a red baseball cap. Skips and Benson were snickering and shoving each other. Maelard took notice of their camaraderie and scowled at them.

"If you two do anything to screw this picture up I'll have your heads!" Maelard barked.

"Oh us," Benson asked. "Don't worry about us Mr. Maelard, we're just really excited about the picture."

"Yeah," Skips added with a snicker, "real excited."

"Oh yeah, I believe that for a second," Maelard shouted.

"Now father," Pops intervened, "today is a supposed to be a day of merrymaking. The Fourth is a real slice of Americana, you know."

"That's all fine and dandy, but those two hooligans are up to something, I can feel it!" Maelard countered.

The young human picked a few blades of grass and ground them between his two fingers. He knew what the gumball machine was up to, and he wasn't all that excited about it. He didn't get along with Benson and his yeti friend very well. They were too wild. They intimidated him. Regardless, he wasn't going to spoil the big surprise. He disliked Maelard even more, and if their plan was a success they were more than likely going to get fired. He was holding his tongue.

Pops looked at his father with reassuring eyes. Maelard knew that he was taking too much time. He sighed.

"Okay, so we have Skips, Benson, Pops, Chip… Where's Franky?"

After a moments silence, a timid looking squirrel snuck out from behind the young human and wheezed. His nose was runny. The human's eyes lit up and he lifted the squirrel, placing the rodent gently on his shoulder. Maelard stared the squirrel down for a bit, and it cowered behind the human's head as the long couple of seconds dragged on.

"Ah, yes, Franky. Okay, is everyone ready," the older gent asked excitedly, putting his hands together. The crew nodded in unison.

"Okay, now when I hit this button the camera will go off five seconds later, so make sure to keep smiling until it clicks. Got it? Good."

The older gent clicked the camera's shutter button and ran to his son's side. Maelard wrapped his arm around Pops' neck and smiled. Benson reached behind Skips' back and grabbed the red missile he had been concealing in his back pocket. Maelard was too busy staring into the camera lens to notice Skips lighting the firework. Franky lifted Chip's cap and pulled it over himself in fear of the inevitable explosion. Pops and Maelard were none the wiser. Skips and Benson's faces were frozen in awful poses, and as the shutter went off, the rocket flew out of Benson's hand and past Maelard's head. The picture was taken.

Mordecai burst out laughing at the image he held in his hand. Benson and Skips' mouths were agape, frozen in ghastly expressions. The rocket left a trail of smoke across everyone's eyes, except the two in front who he didn't recognize. The squirrel was plummeting toward the ground, clutching the human's hat, and the human was desperately trying to catch him. Carved in the bottom of the frame were crude characters that spelled out "B. S. – Hooligans."

Rigby came back with the screwdriver and found Mordecai crying and pounding his fist against the wall. Rigby dropped the screwdriver in the same spot he had dropped the shears and rushed to find out what was wrong. He assumed that Mordecai's back was acting up from the fall.

"Oh no, dude are you hurt? I'm sorry I took so long, I…" Rigby was interrupted when Mordecai handed him the picture. He took one look and laughed so hard that no sounds came out at first. He choked as he brought in his first breath, and then came back with a high-powered cackle.

Mordecai coughed a few times and tried a breathing exercise to calm himself down, but seeing Rigby all riled up got him going again. "Dude," Mordecai said between wheezes, "dude. Calm down, we've still got work to do. Did you get the screwdriver?"

Rigby did not acknowledge Mordecai's question. He was in an uproar from the photograph and didn't even hear him. "They're… the bottle rocket… Maelards face… Benson… this is amazing!" He was laughing too hard to form complete sentences. "Where'd you get this?"

Mordecai gave his last chuckle as he explained, "it was behind this shelf…" When he motioned to the shelf he noticed something else. He grabbed the edge of an old book and pulled it out from behind the shelf. It's binding was tattered from ware. Rigby's curiosity overcame his giddiness and his attention turned to the object Mordecai held. As Mordecai opened the old book, Rigby climbed him and placed his own face on the blue jay's shoulder to get a better look. Mordecai didn't mind.

The book was filled with old photos of the park, specifically images of Skips and Benson. They looked very happy. The images were sincere, though the pair seemed to look like they were scheming in almost all of them. Mordecai and Rigby stared at the old photographs in curious bewilderment. They reminded the two of themselves, and seeing Benson in such a compromising mood was both fascinating and off-putting. They had assumed that Benson had always had an uptight personality, but the photographs offered a very different image of him. As they turned the pages they saw Benson spraying his fellow employees with a hose, giving out hugs and even drinking during the day. His demeanor was that of a fun loving young guy.

"Well that's… hmm," Mordecai said as he cocked his head.

"I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone or something," whispered Rigby. Just then, they heard Benson's irate footsteps outside.

"Hey guys, have you seen Pops? I think he gave away all of our glasses yesterday…" Benson noticed what Mordecai and Rigby were holding and grew pale. "Where… where did you find that?" he asked, growing pink with embarrassment.

Rigby and Mordecai looked at each other, terrified of the repercussions of their discovery. Benson walked over reluctantly and took the items out of their hands, looking each of them in the eye before turning around. He stopped for a moment at the door, looked down at the discarded flat head, and picked it up as well, before continuing on his way.

"Weird…" Mordecai said as Rigby crawled down from his shoulder.

Benson covered the objects with his arms to conceal them. As he walked down the path he saw Pops sitting in a tree waving at him. He ignored the older gent and continued, thinking hard about what the two had just found. He walked into the house and made his way up the stairs to Pops' room and sat down on his bed. He sighed a deep sigh and looked at the framed photograph with regret in his eyes. He flipped it over and examined the two screws that held on to the back of the frame. They looked crusted over, as though they hadn't been tampered with. This eased his fears. He held his breath as he undid the screws.

Back in the shed, Mordecai and Rigby looked for a proper alternative to the screwdriver that Benson had swiped from them. They tried not to think too hard about what had just happened. The images they saw painted an entirely different Benson than they were used to. The Benson they saw in those photographs reminded them of themselves. He was care free and insubordinate. Mordecai spied a semi-shiny object on the wood floor and picked it up. It was a penny. It would have to do.

Pops' bed sagged under Benson's weight as he rediscovered what he had hidden in the back of the portrait. It was a simple image, but one he could never show anyone, especially Skips. It was a photograph of the two of them sitting under one of the park's trees. Benson was holding the camera and leaning on Skips' shoulder. Skips was happily sipping a can of cheap beer and returning the favor by leaning his head on Benson's. They both looked very happy. Benson had nearly forgotten that summer. It had been an experiment for both of them, one that Benson had taken too far. Skips had opted to keep things simple and let whatever feelings he had for Benson play out, but Benson was a man of definitions. He would ask Skips if they were a couple, whether they were gay or not, and what the future held for the both of them. At the end of the day, Skips did not love Benson the way Benson loved Skips.

Things got difficult for Benson in the final month of that summer. When he would try to fool around with the Yeti, he would be ignored. Things got even stranger when the yeti stopped acknowledging him altogether. One day, Skips told Benson that he no longer wanted to continue seeing him. He informed Benson that he was going to do something that would make him forget that they had ever known each other. Benson was heartbroken. He quit the job and left to pursue other things, and eventually came back to fill in as park manager. When Benson and Skips met for the second time they were strangers. By then, Benson was a much more bitter person.

Downstairs, Rigby struggled to tighten a screw on the new piece of furniture that they had been tasked with assembling. It was a dresser for Pops' room. A pain took over his arm as he twisted. The coin did not provide nearly enough leverage to efficiently drive the screw. It wasn't like Rigby to offer to take over a job and let Mordecai slack off, but he figured he might as well take Benson's advice and let the blue jay rest.

"Need some help?" Mordecai asked as he lounged on the couch.

"Nah," Rigby said, "It's cool. You just keep doing what your doing over there. Ack!" Rigby shrieked as the penny slipped from between his fingers and his nail dug into the side of his knuckle. Mordecai came to his aid but Rigby held up his hand and motioned Mordecai to cease his approach.

"Rigby, let me take over for a bit, that sounded like it hurt," Mordecai gasped.

"No it's okay, I told you. I got this," Rigby mumbled, sucking the fresh blood from his finger.

"Dammit that hurt. If stupid Benson hadn't jacked the screw driver I wouldn't be putting this thing together with a damn penny," Rigby shouted in frustration. "Woah, calm down, he might hear you," Mordecai whispered sternly.

"What do I care if he hears me? Why did he take it anyway? And why is he such a jerk all the time? And why is he acting so damn weird? I'm sick of him, I tell ya, totally sick…"

Rigby's rant was cut short by modest footsteps coming down the stairs. Benson held the screwdriver in his hand. His face wasn't crimson like it usually was when he caught the two of them badmouthing him. It was paler. He looked disappointed.

"You guys should have assembled that in Pops' room, it's going to be a pain when we have to bring it upstairs." Benson's voice was calm and a tad remorseful. He knelt down next to Rigby and started driving in the screws that were supposed to hold together one of the legs. After he finished one, he looked over at Rigby, who was so caught up in the awkwardness that he forgot about his new wound.

"Rigby, holy hell! How did that happen?" he asked with an unfamiliar concern in his voice. Rigby struggled to find the words, but he was still in shock. Had his boss grown deaf? He was acting as though he missed all of the insults that Rigby had broadcasted. The raccoon looked around the room for his voice, but when he couldn't find it he held up the penny in front of Benson's face. A fine line of red dripped over Lincoln's eye.

"You were trying to put together this dresser with a penny?" Benson asked. "Here, give me that. And go put on a Band-Aid." He took the penny from Rigby and wiped it against the carpet to remove the blood. He looked at Mordecai who was no longer lounging on the couch. "You, take the screw driver. Let's get this thing together before Pops gets home." Benson knew he wouldn't get cut, even if his finger slipped.

Rigby ran some cold water over the slice on his finger. The blood hit the drain and phased with the water to make pink strands and droplets. The collage of clear, red and pink swirling down the drain was mesmerizing. Soap added another element to the soupy picture; suds.

Rigby was feeling a little humiliated at being caught mouthing off to Benson, but then again, Benson was acting like he hadn't heard the unsavory remarks. Rigby's eyes shifted away from his own reflection in the bathroom mirror as he pried it open to obtain the bandages inside. He unwrapped a tan adhesive and applied it to his cut. By the time he got downstairs, the pile of wood was beginning to resemble the Armoire that was depicted on the box it came in. He watched Benson direct the construction like a true park manager. At that moment he gained a bit of respect Benson. The man could manage.

The three of them muscled the complete piece of furniture up the stairs one step at a time. The entire job had been surreal. Benson never helped Mordecai and Rigby with their work. And yet, he was being collaborative and cooperative with the two. He wasn't expelling his normal aggressive attitude. Without it, Rigby had nothing to feed off of and didn't feel the need to retaliate.

Mordecai held the front of Armoire with his back facing the top of the steps. Benson held up the rear, and Rigby stood underneath it with his hands straight up above his head. Rigby acted as a stable fulcrum, allowing Mordecai and Benson to pivot around corners that would have normally been troublesome. They only had one more flight of stairs to attend to. Benson nearly dropped the dresser on Rigby's head when he realized he had left his possessions on Pops' bed.

"Hold on guys, I gotta go up there for a second, can you hold the dresser real quick?"

Rigby's eyes widened at the idea of being crushed by the large piece furniture. "Wait," he yelled.

"Dude, we can't hold this thing by ourselves. Is this about the pictures?" Mordecai added.

"Pictures? What pictures," Benson asked, easing his grip on the heavy dresser.

"The pictures we found in the shed," squealed Rigby, suddenly taking on the extra weight.

Benson's face told the two that they were right. It also told them that Benson was very embarrassed about them.

"Hey, someone was bound to find it eventually," Mordecai added, letting go of some of the weight on his end.

"Guys," Rigby whispered, taking on even more of the weight and losing his breath in the process.

Benson grew uncomfortable and let off some more weight. He looked at his toes, then the railing, then back at his toes.

"And besides," Mordecai continued, not hearing Rigby's plight. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"Guys?" cried Rigby, with even less force behind his voice then before.

"So you went through a wild phase, that's nothing to be embarrassed about," Mordecai added, once again failing to recognize that Rigby was holding most of the dresser on his back. "I actually think it's pretty cool, man."

"I don't know what you guys are talking about," said Benson.

Back in his dwelling, Skips noticed that the creature was in pain. He had been eying it suspiciously all day. Its movements and mood seemed to parrot Rigby's. He felt admittedly guilty about essentially stalking the both of them, but this seemed important. At the moment it looked like it was being crushed. It was also making unfamiliar sounds of pain. Skips watched it struggle, and finally came to a realization.

The front door of the house flew open as Skips came crashing through it. He dashed up the stairs and found Mordecai giving Benson a pep talk. He looked around for the raccoon and spied his little legs buckling under the weight of the furniture. He tore the Armoire out of Benson and Mordecai's hand. Rigby stood for a few seconds before falling over and coughing.

"Rigby, are you okay?" Skips asked, getting down on one knee.

Rigby nodded. His eyes were wide and black, and his expression showed more emotional pain than physical.

"Oh crap, Rigby I'm sorry," said Benson and Mordecai in different words. Their tone was identical.

Rigby played up his predicament a bit. He pretended to hold in a cry, and he painted his face a shade of pathetic that only he could wear with dignity.

"You two shouldn't be so negligent," said Skips, grabbing the dresser. He had decided that he was going to move it upstairs without the help of the three of them.

Benson's eyes filled with terror. The last thing he wanted was for Skips to discover the pictures. He wasn't supposed to see them. He hadn't a clue as to how Skips deleted the memories from his mind, but Benson assumed that Skips finding out such things would screw with his perception of reality. The last things he needed were the embarrassment and the mentally incapacitated employee.

"Wait, Skips, don't you want any help with that?" pleaded Benson. He figured he could go up ahead of the yeti and sneak away to hide the pictures.

"Nah, it's cool. I got it," Replied Skips, who placed a foot at the bottom of the attic stairs.

"Uh, no wait, let me help you," Benson commanded in a panic.

"Benson, I told you," replied Skips, stalling for a moment. "I've got it covered."

"I insist," growled Benson.

Mordecai watched the exchange quizzically as he helped his friend from up off the ground. Rigby dropped his act and joined Mordecai in gawking.

"Look, Benson, I don't know what you're trying to prove, but I can handle the dresser," replied Skips. "Jeez, what's gotten into you, anyways?" he added, almost finalizing his ascent.

Benson felt a serious panic hit him hard. "Skips, I order you to put down the dresser. Put. It. Down," he shouted, gritting his teeth.

Skips looked him in the eye. He knew he couldn't disobey a direct order from his boss, though Benson's complete lack of an explanation as to why was agitating. He wordlessly brought the Armoire to the bottom of the stairs and slammed it on the wood floor. Then, he made his way downstairs without acknowledging any of the three. They heard the door downstairs slam loudly.

Benson turned to Mordecai and Rigby. They looked confused. Their befuddlement offended the gumball machine.

"What?" he interrogated. His entire head was tinted red with anger.

The two decided not to explain their confusion. They chose to pretend that there was no confusion, though it was now obvious that the pictures were a significant find. They held a strange power over their boss. They took note and tended to the dresser, this time without Benson's help. The gumball machine obviously needed some time to cool off.

The dresser made its way up Pops' room one leg at a time. Mordecai and Rigby were not strong enough to move the thing, even together. What made things worse was that Benson had still forgotten the objects on Pops' bed. He squeezed by the dresser when the two had made it half way up the stairs. He squeezed by again when the two had made it three quarters of the way of the stairs. When they finally managed to get the thing into Pops' room and Benson was out of earshot, Rigby flopped on Pops' bed. Mordecai joined him on the bed and playfully put his arm around the raccoon's neck. Rigby shoved the blue jays arm away. Mordecai laughed. Something about Rigby's discomfort with any sort of personal touch was amusing to him.

"Dude, you're funny," said Mordecai. He relaxed and put his arms behind his own head. He was satisfied at the jobs completion.

"What do you mean, funny?" Rigby pouted, still indignant at Mordecai's attempt at cuddling. Even if it was just a joke, it felt weird to him.

"I dunno, you get so freaked out at some things," said Mordecai, who stared at the ceiling.

"Don't touch me and I won't 'freak out'," scoffed Rigby.

"Oh, I'm sorry man, it won't happen again," Mordecai said.

"Dude, cut it out," retorted Rigby, also staring at the ceiling.

"Cut what out?" asked Mordecai.

"This," replied Rigby, keeping his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

"This what?" asked Mordecai, this time a little annoyed.

"You know, this," said Rigby, motioning to Mordecai's entire body. "All of it. It's weird."

"How is it weird? I was just joking. What, are you afraid I'm gonna kiss you or something?" Mordecai replied.

"Dude just cut it out. You've been acting all different today," Rigby said with an indignant scoff.

"You mean nice?" asked Mordecai.

"Well…" began Rigby, "yeah."

"So… you'd rather I be mean then?" asked Mordecai with a tilted brow.

Rigby didn't really know how to respond. He was thinking it over when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He turned to Mordecai to yell at him.

"Hey! Don't punch me…" Rigby barked, expecting to be greeted by a furious Mordecai. He wasn't. Mordecai had a wonderful grin on his face. The punch turned out to be a ferocious love tap.

"What," asked Rigby. Mordecai refused to stop smiling.

"Cut it out," Rigby pleaded. He struggled to stay angry with Mordecai, but he didn't have the willpower. The blue jay's face was decorated with an infectiously playful smile, and Rigby didn't have it in him to stay mad. Rigby matched Mordecai's by adopting a mischievous smirk. Then, he shoved the blue jay in the chest.

Mordecai answered with a counter-shove that knocked the light raccoon off of the bed. Rigby scampered back onto the bed and dodged a right hook. He put his hand on Mordecai's face and escalated the play fight with a hard punch to the chest. Mordecai grabbed Rigby and held him above his head.

Rigby was delighted with the idea of being thrown against the mattress. He imagined himself bouncing off of it and returning with a swift hook to the blue jay's face. He also feared being slammed into the hard wood floor. Either way, he was ready to receive whatever attack Mordecai had planned for him.

Mordecai was about to dish out a body slam when he heard a boisterous round of applause behind him. He turned his head to investigate the source.

"Good show! Jolly good show!" cheered Pops, who was giddier than the both of them. "A friendly wrassle with a good friend is a wonderful way to spend a Saturday afternoon," said the older man with a wink.

Mordecai placed Rigby gently on the bed and hopped off. He wasn't going to beat the tar of out his friend in front of Pops.

"Is that my new Armoire? Oh how exciting," shouted Pops, running over to his new dresser to play with the drawers.

Mordecai looked at Rigby and said what he needed to say with his expression. They both snuck out of Pops' room and listened to him cackle behind them. They heard the drawers open and close repeatedly. When they reached the first floor of the house, Mordecai looked at Rigby and asked, "Wanna go get a coffee?"

"Sure," replied Rigby.

TO BE CONTINUED LOL

Author's note

Okay, I know it's been a while since I updated. Well you'll be glad to hear that I'm back and writing. I'm cutting this chapter in half because I realized that jumping from 4000 words per chapter to 12000 was a little heavy, but I will be making the chapters a bit longer from here on out.

Also, if you like the story, feel free to write a review! Reading reviews inspires me to write faster, so it only benefits you in the long run ;)

OH! I almost forgot. The photograph sequence was inspired by the tune "I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free" by Nina Simone.

All of the Mordecai and Rigby scenes were inspired by "The Tallest Man On Earth," specifically the songs "Troubles Will Be Gone" and "Thrown Right At Me."

Thanks for reading! Until next time…


	8. Saturday, August 6th Pt 2

The familiar smells of a restaurant are delightful to all but the people that work at one. Margaret had grown to despise the sweet and salty smells of the various breakfast and lunch entrees that they served. Her back ached from pouring coffee, and her throat hurt from being unnaturally polite to rude patrons. She peered angrily at the retro clock that hung on the far wall of the diner. Her shift wasn't done for another four hours.

Mordecai and Rigby pulled up on the curb in one of the park's many golf carts. They were funny things, the carts. They were hardly street legal, but the town seemed to permit their use. They were so directly connected to the park that they were a symbol of its existence, almost like a logo. Mordecai had never had a driver's license, so he always used the unwritten legality of the carts to his advantage. As did Rigby, though the raccoon had fewer reasons than Mordecai to drive anywhere. Rigby rarely felt the need to go anywhere without his friend.

The familiar sign read "Coffee Shop," though it was more like a restaurant. Where most coffee shops had caved to the pressure of the French styled café's of the city, this one had opted for a classic diner approach. It was a comfortable place where one could get average food at a modest price, and just about the only place that Mordecai and Rigby could afford to frequent.

Margaret spied their iconic golf cart long before they had entered. When they landed they were already bickering about something. She watched from behind a counter and giggled to herself. They really were her favorite customers. She didn't know much about Mordecai. He seemed nice enough, if a bit socially awkward. She thought Rigby was a riot, but he never seemed to be interested in anything she had to say. In any case, she preferred seeing them together. She found their quarrels and antics to be delightfully cute.

"Dude, no. No way," Shouted Mordecai.

"Yeah-huh," insisted Rigby.

"That doesn't even make any sense. It's disgusting, plus where would we keep it?" asked Mordecai.

"In the closet, on the floor, wherever! We don't even use half of our room," replied Rigby.

She heard the bell of the door ring as the two entered. Their malice would subside as soon as she approached, this much she expected. She wished it wouldn't. She didn't know many people who were as pure and un-inhibited as Mordecai and Rigby. It was as if social standards and expectations had completely missed them.

They sat down at their usual table. She saw Mordecai place his hands over his ears in frustration as Rigby mindlessly barked his opinion in his friend's direction. She flipped her worn leather notepad open and approached their table. To her surprise, they didn't stop bickering.

"Dude, it's a good idea, you're just too stupid to realize it," Rigby scoffed, emphasizing "stupid."

Mordecai responded with a grunt and a shove aimed at Rigby's shoulder.

"What are you guys arguing about?" asked Margaret.

"Remember that gross little marble that Rigby puked up the other day?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well Skips planted it in a fish tank and it hatched. It's like a little version of the monster thing that almost killed us," Mordecai answered. "Rigby wants to keep it as a pet. He thinks it's his kid or something."

"Yeah, but you forgot to mention how cool it is," shouted Rigby with a pointed finger.

"It's not cool, it's repulsive. You only like it because you made it hump that one time," Mordecai accused.

"Wait, wait, slow down. Rigby made it 'hump'? What does that even mean?" Margaret asked in confusion.

"It copies everything he does, it's sick. If Rigby dances, IT dances. If Rigby cries like a baby IT cries like a baby," Mordecai replied indignantly. He almost sounded jealous.

"It copies everything you do?" asked Margaret, directing her attention to Rigby. "That's so cute," she swooned. She caught herself taking sides and felt a little guilty. "Sorry Mordecai."

Mordecai rolled his eyes. Rigby gave an "Hmm, hmm," satisfied with his small victory.

"Not to mention, it saved my life," Rigby stated with an heir of importance.

"It saved your life?" Margaret gasped.

"Skips saved your life dude," Mordecai gave with indignation.

"It told Skips that I was in trouble."

"It didn't 'tell' him anything, it was just tweaking out like you were," pouted Mordecai.

"Don't split hairs, bro. You know that I would have died under that dresser if it hadn't made a ruckus. And THAT, my friend, is very, VERY cool."

"Whatever. Even if it is kind of cool, we can't keep it. Skips said that as soon as it's big enough it's going back to the dump where it belongs," he scoffed. "Besides, it smells like a septic tank."

"Don't talk about him like that," barked Rigby.

"Oh so it's a HE now, is it?" asked Mordecai.

"Yeah, maybe HE is! It's alive isn't it? How would you feel if people called YOU an it?" Rigby shouted in defense of the creature.

"That's because I'm NOT an 'it,'" retorted Mordecai.

"Yeah you are, IT," shouted Rigby.

"You're the IT!"

"Rigby, Mordecai's obviously a 'he'," Margaret added.

"Oh yeah, what makes him a 'he' and not an 'it,' hmm?"

"I'm a 'HE' because I have a goddamn d-"

"Guys, guys!" Margaret interrupted. She feared that they would attack each other if she didn't stop them. Plus, her head still hurt from last night. The two were never this rowdy around her.

They were both silenced by her interjection. After a moment of being ashamed of themselves they apologized to her, and then each other.

"Okay, whoa," Margaret sighed happily. "That was pretty intense guys."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Mordecai said. His usual shyness was returning to his voice.

"It's okay. Do you have any idea how boring this place gets?" she asked rhetorically. The strange little argument had been the perfect diversion from her daily grind, so that much she appreciated.

"I bet it gets really boring, like, library boring or whatever," replied Mordecai, failing to sound witty or seductive.

"Isn't she supposed to take our order or something?" Rigby said under his breath.

"Rigby!" shouted Mordecai.

"No he's right, I'm on the clock you know," said Margaret, watching the seconds tick away on the clock that hung on the far wall. She didn't take offence to the comment. It was just Rigby. He was always this assertive. It was the sort of thing he would have said to Mordecai, so it told her that he saw her as an equal. She sort of liked it in a weird way. "I assume you guys want the usual, yeah? Black, two sugars?"

"Black, two sugars," Rigby ordered, ignoring everything she had just said.

"Mordecai?" she asked.

"Yeah yeah, the usual. Take… your time," Mordecai said, pointing at the clock and grinning an awkward grin.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Margaret replied. The joke was so bad that she didn't even perceive it as one, so she didn't laugh out of politeness, as she normally would have. "Two coffees, coming up."

Mordecai hung his head low at his own humiliation.

Rigby was pleased. He knew that Mordecai never had a chance with the red seductress, but seeing him get shut down time and time again was a selfish reminder that in some way Mordecai was his, forever and always. He didn't understand why Mordecai was so nervous around her. She seemed like one of the more approachable girls he had met, and though he didn't think much of her, he had to admit that she seemed warm and sincere almost always.

Mordecai waited nervously for the coffee to arrive. He needed to grip something. He needed a distraction from his own turmoil. It carved his skull, scooping at his brain and destroying the part that controls his social skills.

In a flash, Margaret returned with two coffees. She was used to filling their order. She had been doing it for years. By now she thought that they should all be close friends, but neither of them had ever really invited her to anything. It made her feel somewhat rejected, but regardless they were a glimmer in her otherwise dreary workday.

Mordecai gladly grabbed the piping hot mug and drank half of it right off the bat. He wanted her to know how much he liked it. Of course, he couldn't be direct about such a sincere and harmless gesture, but he felt like anything he did around her could be misconstrued as awkward or suggestive. It was this habit, of course, that made all of his actions around her seem awkward AND suggestive. He burned his throat and she swiftly exited out of view behind the kitchen doors.

Rigby sipped his coffee slowly. The caffeine affected him stronger than it did Mordecai. He liked it. In some ways he was a junky. He liked his emotions to be simple and strong, he liked being horrified, and in a twisted way he liked being knocked around. He always chose to eat and drink quickly so he could feel the sugars and carbohydrates pulse through his body. This time was an exception because the coffee was so hot, but he usually liked things loud and fast acting.

In his shack, Skips was pissed. He was still steaming from Benson's needless outburst earlier, and he was pumping iron to relieve himself as he always did. When the weight wasn't enough to hurt his arms, he added more. He repeated the process until he was too exhausted to lift anything. As he came down from his weigh-lift therapy, he relaxed into his bench. His chest heaved and his breath slowed. He turned his neck to check on the creature.

It wasn't moving.

Back in town, Rigby was happily buzzing in the passenger seat of the still-warm golf cart. Mordecai turned the key in the ignition with a slight difficulty. Things always felt a bit more rigid after awkward encounters with his infatuation. They slowly drove back to the park. Mordecai ignored Rigby, who was hyper and blurting out possible names for his pet.

Skips was in a bit of a panic. Was it dead? It hadn't stopped squirming since it had hatched, and yet there it was, still as a puddle. He tried poking the glass. Nothing.

Rigby was narrowing it down to two terrible choices. Mordecai still hadn't noticed.

"Bixby or Kingsley… Bixby… or… Kingsley…"

Skips knew that the dump needed another monster. He also knew that the absence of one could mean disaster. It would require some kind of sensible solution, one that took thought, and possibly science. Things were easier with monsters. "C'mon little guy, get up… shit."

He pressed his face against the glass, hoping for some kind of movement. He spied Mordecai driving the cart through two panes of glass that separated him from his cracked window. The image was immediately eclipsed by the creature, who exploded back to life at the site of Rigby. Skips was hardly startled by the very startling event. "Hmm. Depressed, not dead."

Rigby waved at the creature as they passed. Mordecai was still a husk driving a beaten golf cart. Rigby finally noticed that Mordecai was in a heavy sulk when the bird parked the car and pressed his face against the steering wheel. Muscleman had a tendency to wear out new horns pretty quickly, so instead of a honk, it let out a pathetic yawn that matched Mordecai's emotions. Rigby almost put his hand on Mordecai's shoulder to say something sincere, but something within him was just too uncomfortable with the idea of touching his friend. He wanted to, he just didn't want to want to. And he certainly didn't want Mordecai to know he wanted to.

Rigby did the next best thing. He poked Mordecai in the side and asked if he wanted to play videogames. Mordecai didn't budge.

"C'mon man," Rigby said, "It's okay."

"No it's not, she doesn't even know I exist," replied a sullen Mordecai.

"Well, yeah, but at least that means she didn't notice how bad your joke was," Rigby declared with a smile, under the false impression that he was saying something comforting.

Mordecai groaned as the horn finally became totally silent under the weight of his noggin.

"Dude, cheer up already," Rigby said. "Look, she's obviously bummed about something, maybe that's why she didn't really pay any attention."

"Bummed? What do you mean," Mordecai asked.

"You didn't notice? She seemed wicked depressed or something," Rigby said, letting his shoulders sink a little.

"Really? I didn't notice anything," Mordecai announced.

"Dude, seriously? Maybe you should be the one paying more attention. She looked like she was about to cry or something," Rigby said with a little scoff.

"Hmm. That's actually really observant for you Rigby," Mordecai said with an honest tone.

"Hey!" Rigby barked.

"Just sayin, you're usually pretty… uh… self centered…" Mordecai said trailing off. He was aware of the imminent repercussions of his own words.

"I OBSERVE things, Mordecai, I'm observant," Rigby said, defending his honor.

"Alright man, whatever," cooed Mordecai, hoping to diffuse Rigby's outrage.

"I AM. I'm, like, caring and soulful and all that junk, you just choose to ignore it," Rigby snapped back.

"Look man, I take it back," said Mordecai, not really taking it back.

"Yeah, yeah, well now I know what you really think," Rigby replied.

"Alright man," Mordecai began, "if you're so 'deep' and 'caring,' why can't you even take a hug, or any sort of gesture of niceness without getting all uptight?"

"I don't like being touched!" Rigby screamed. "Get over it, you're just mad because Margaret hates you."

"Dude not cool," Mordecai said. He wanted it to come out angry, but it really came out woeful.

"What ever, I'm going to Skips' house," Rigby declared, hopping off out of the golf cart.

"Why?" Mordecai asked.

"Why do you think?"

In the coffee shop, Margaret was on break. She was suppressing her hangover well. The mechanical movements of her workday allowed her to shut off many of her emotions. At the same time, she didn't have much of a choice. Her friend Eileen was smiling as usual. She was short, and not very pretty, but she had a large advantage that Margaret didn't have. She could feel what she was meant to feel. She wore her emotions in a way that most could not.

"Hey Margaret, wazzup?" the little mole asked, hopping up on the counter. She figured the phrase was ironic enough.

"Yo," Margaret said with a smirk.

"How's it goin?" Eileen asked, fixing her glasses.

"Oh, ya know. Eh." The red bird spoke with a tinge of apathy.

"Guy problems?"

"Yeah…"

"Aw, pumpkin," Eileen replied. "Things not working out with Caleb?"

Margaret sat in silence for just a couple of seconds, choosing her words."I just thought he was different, I dunno. I shouldn't have thought that."

"Hey, don't blame yourself, if the guys a jerk the guys a jerk. Not your fault," Eileen sympathized. "I wouldn't know the feeling though…"

"Eileen," Margaret said, lifting her leg behind her to get out a kink.

"I mean," Eileen continued, "sure you've had your heart broken a lot, but at least it's BEEN broken."

"I guess… better to have loved, etcetera, right?" Margaret had 'loved' quite a bit.

"Yeah, I haven't really 'loved' yet," Eileen spoke with ironic sorrow.

"Eileen, you'll find a guy," Margaret assured.

"My heart belongs to only one man," Eileen trailed off.

Margaret knew what she was getting at. "Rigby? Eileen, Rigby doesn't like anyone. I mean I saw him today and…"

"Rigby was here? Aw dammit, where was I," Eileen asked in a panic.

"I don't know, that's not the point dude, Rigby's a cool guy and all but he's just… he's just Rigby. I doubt he'd even go for me." Margaret's words seemed a little conceited.

Eileen scoffed at Margaret's boast. She didn't like it when Margaret called her "dude," and she spoke as if Rigby was the only guy who wouldn't go for her. What was that supposed to mean? In any case, Margaret was right, he had never shown the slightest interest in either of them, and that's partly why she liked him so much. He was unattainable, which meant there was no risk of actually ending up with him. Well, that, and his scruffy hairy, his fluffy tail and his shiny eyes.

Margaret regressed. She felt dumb for implying she was that much better looking than Eileen, even if it was true. "Look, Eileen, I didn't mean that. Anyways, guys suck. You're lucky that you've never had a guy, trust me."

"Well," Eileen said, "I'd at least like to know." Eileen was a bit old for someone who had never been with anyone, but her natural shyness made it impossible for her to interact with anyone she was really attracted to, and it didn't help that the one guy she had feelings for was a potential closet case.

Back in Skips' hovel, the old yeti was deep in thought. The creature seemed to only respond to Rigby's thoughts and movements. He was interrupted by a loud knock at his door. He got up to answer it. He looked down on Rigby, who seemed a little irate.

"Skips, can I see him again?" Rigby asked.

"Oh so it's a 'he' now, is it?" Skips responded, watching Rigby enter without his permission. Rigby ignored the remark. Skips watched Rigby's eyes light up at the site of the creature. It matched his look of intrigue, though it didn't have eyes. Its movements didn't entirely parrot Rigby's this time. This was good; it meant that the creature wasn't a complete doppelganger. That is, it had some independent thought.

"Rigby, I don't like this," Skips remarked, watching the raccoon do a very creepy dance with the creature. "It got real silent when you guys left."

"Aw, it just missed me is all," replied Rigby, rubbing his paw against the glass.

"No, you don't understand," Skips explained, "as soon as you left the park it stopped moving. I tried poking it and everything."

"So what does this mean?" Rigby asked, turning to look the yeti in the eyes.

"It needs you," Skips replied. "This is bad."

"All the more reason to keep him," Rigby said nonchalantly. His attention returned to the creature. The site of it writhing made him feel warm.

"Keep him," Skips shouted, "Are you crazy? In a few days this thing's going to be bigger than the park itself, it'll kill us all!"

"Whoa, really?" Rigby asked.

"Yeah, and that's where we have a serious problem," Skips said. "Unless you want to live at the dump, this thing might end up being totally useless."

"Useless?" Rigby exclaimed. "Don't talk to him like that."

"Rigby, it's not a he. It's an immortal monster, and it's extremely dangerous."

"He's not a monster," Rigby said, "He's just a little misunderstood."

"There's nothing to understand Rigby," Skips replied, "The dump is built on an ancient ruin that's designed to keep him from leaving. He's an ancient evil, he needs to be contained!"

Rigby silently poked the glass, ignoring Skips' remark. He seemed to be entranced. After a few moments he broke the silence with a "you said 'he' that time" and a smirk.

Skips huffed once and stamped a heavy foot on the floor. The crash caused Rigby to catch a little air.

"Don't mistake this creature's actions for love, Rigby. For all we know it's not even sentient."

"Sentient?" Rigby asked, not understanding the word.

"As in the ability to think," Skips explained. "I've been thinking about this all day, and I believe I know what's going on here."

"Oh?" Rigby asked.

"You were out for a bit longer than Mordecai, despite the fact that he sustained heavier injuries than you," Skips deliberated.

"And?" Rigby asked, not knowing what Skips was getting at.

"AND," Skips began, "I think that during that time it was incubating. And while it was incubating, part of your soul must have imprinted on it."

"So," Rigby said, "The creature is me, essentially?"

Skips was a bit surprised at Rigby's lack of shock.

"Not exactly," Skips explained. "You can't copy someone's soul, you can only take parts of it. So yes, this creature is partly 'you,' but for the most part, your actions dictate it's actions, so it mustn't have been able to take much of it."

"And that's good, right?" asked Rigby.

"No it's not good!" Skips shouted. "This creature has part of your soul, doesn't that bother you?"

"It's not like I was using it anyway," Rigby grumbled. "If he needs it, then so be it."

"Rigby," Skips exclaimed in shock, "What kind of thing is that to say? Your soul is the only thing that is truly yours, more so than your name or even your body. You need it, and even if just a little bit is missing, the rest will deteriorate over time!"

This last remark startled Rigby. Suddenly, the situation was quite a bit more urgent to him. He didn't wonder for a second if Skips was uneducated in these matters.

"Deteriorate?" he asked, frightened and loud. "Oh gosh, I don't want my soul to deteriorate, how long will it take?"

"Like I said," Skips explained, "it only took a very very small piece of it, so it could take a very long time. So long that you wouldn't even notice it."

"Well that's good, but how do we fix it?" Rigby asked. "How do we get the piece back?"

Skips turned his head ninety degrees to the right and stared with an unusually stern expression, even for him. He turned back and said, "I don't know."

Rigby had never heard Skips use those three words so confidently. The idea that Skips didn't have the answer to this problem bothered Rigby on a core level. He no longer wanted to see the creature. He turned his back on it and it reached out towards him. Only Skips saw that.

"I need to think about this," Rigby said, fearing his own souls departure.

"I'd do that. There's gotta be a way to get your soul back, and I'm willing to try and find it," said Skips. "For now, just relax. Did you and Mordecai finish your work today?"

"Uh… yeah… I think so," Rigby said, lying.

"Well where's Mordecai right now?" Skips asked.

"Oh… we had a bit of a falling out earlier," Rigby said. "He's pissed at me, I'm pissed at him."

"You should go apologize, Rigby. In times like these, it's important to keep supportive people close by," Skips said.

"Pfff, supportive my tail," Rigby snarled.

"Just go talk to him ya little brat. He's your best friend," Skips affirmed.

"Yeah, yeah," Rigby barked, retreating out the door.

Skips watched the Raccoon head back to the rec house through his window. A great worry took over his face. He had left out some big pieces of information in his explanation to Rigby. He figured he'd save the raccoon the stressful bits for when they were absolutely necessary. For one thing, when a soul deteriorated, it was gone forever, which was much worse than dying. The other thing was that if an individual with a split soul DID die, the remnants of the broken soul would become trapped forever on earth. It was imperative that he solved this problem, for Rigby's sake. Mulling over the troublesome idea inspired Skips to seek the help of an unlikely ally.

The front door was cracked open already so Rigby didn't have to stand on his toes to turn the knob. Its light illuminated the staircase. The sun was setting quietly. When he walked in, his first thought was to speak with his friend. He checked the living room. Benson was sitting on the couch and the TV was off. He seemed miserable. This was puzzling. He watched silently for a second before scampering up the stairs to find Mordecai. The door to their room was cracked just like the front door had been. He had made a note to close both of them.

Mordecai was lying face down in his bed. His headphones were on, and he seemed to be sulking still. He had applied a fresh bandage to his almost-healed wound. Rigby approached the bed and reached out to touch Mordecai's back. He stopped half way for a second, but eventually let his paw rest on the blue feathers of his friend. It felt weird, but warm. He gave it a pat, and let it rest again, absorbing the warmth through his paw.

Mordecai took off his headphones while turning to look at Rigby sideways. Rigby didn't just touch him, did he? Weird.

"Um… Hey man, what's up?" Mordecai asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"I… I came to apologize for being a prick earlier. Sorry man," Rigby confessed.

"Oh, that," Mordecai chuckled. "It's okay dude, I've already forgotten about it."

"Yeah… There's something else though," Rigby said, fidgeting his thumbs.

"What's that, dude?" Mordecai asked.

"Skips said that the creature thing is… I mean... I don't even really know how to put it," Rigby explained.

"Try," Mordecai said, shifting his legs so he sat on the bed. He had a towel around his waste, so he had obviously just showered.

"It's just…" Rigby began, trying to put it in words, "Skips said that the creature has a tiny piece of my soul, and if I don't get it back then the rest will rot away or something."

Mordecai wrinkled his brow, not knowing what to make of Rigby's explanation.

"Your… soul?" Mordecai puzzled.

"Yeah, I don't really get it either," Rigby said, "but it sounds like I can't live without it."

"So what does it mean?" Mordecai asked.

"I think it means that I'm gonna… die… if we can't figure it out," Rigby explained, "or something like it."

"Oh, dude, that's not gonna happen, Skips is smart. He'll figure it out," Mordecai assured.

"I don't know about this one man, he seemed pretty freaked out by the whole situation himself," Rigby exclaimed. "He said he didn't know."

Mordecai agreed that it was unusual for Skips to not have an immediate answer, but trusted the old yeti.

"Look man, I know it sounds bad, but don't worry about it," Mordecai said. He sounded sincere. "Skips will figure it out, he always does."

"I know, I know," Rigby said, "but this whole thing has got me thinking about what you said earlier."

"What I said?" Mordecai asked.

"About the 'touching' thing," Rigby added.

Mordecai laughed at this. "It's okay man, some people just don't like being touched, and it's just, ya know, whatever."

"That's the thing," Rigby said, "I DO like being touched, I don't know why I said that I don't. That's why I was thinking about it."

Mordecai was startled by Rigby's words. He was showing a level of humility that Mordecai wasn't used to. "Why do you suppose you said it then?"

"I don't know, I guess I've never wanted you to think I liked that," Rigby confessed. "Hugs and pats on the back and stuff."

"But why?" Mordecai asked. He still didn't understand.

"I… Mordecai, I really care about what you think of me. I always have," Rigby explained. "If I'm gonna die, I might as well stop telling lies all the time, especially to my best friend."

Mordecai laughed again, but it was more of an emotional cough. Rigby's sincerity almost caused him to tear up.

"Aw, dude, thanks. That means a lot," Mordecai said.

"It's nothing man," Rigby replied, "I'm just… I like you. You're a good friend, and you've put up with me for so long." His discomfort with sincerity was revealed by his inflection. He wasn't too used to saying such nice things to someone.

"Well maybe you're worth putting up with," Mordecai rebutted.

"Sometimes I have my doubts," Rigby said, rolling his eyes.

Mordecai held his arms open and flipped his fingers back and forth, motioning Rigby to come closer. If ever there was a time for a celebratory hug, this was it. He seemed to be making progress with his friend, and he had been craving Rigby's attention since the incident. He detected a humbleness in Rigby, and he wasn't sure how long it was going to last.

Rigby reluctantly stepped forward to accept the affectionate gesture. His arms were at his sides. Mordecai wrapped his wings around his smaller friend and gave him a gentle squeeze.

"You're not gonna die man," Mordecai added, "I promise."

Rigby's body relaxed into the hug, and somehow he believed his friend's words. In fact, he felt them, through the taller bird's chest. The vibrations of his voice felt good against his nose, which absorbed the scent of his freshly shampooed feathers. His own body told him to rub his snout against the blue jay's chest. He did. Underneath the soft matte of white fluff was a firm layer of lean muscle.

"Easy, easy," Mordecai laughed, "it's just a hug man."

Rigby felt a smile creep across his own lips. It wasn't the kind of smile he got from eating pizza or watching a werewolf get decapitated in a horror movie. This was different, something he had never felt, at least not in this concentration. It lit up his cheeks and caused him to blush. It made his chest hot and his tail twitch. It was a feeling of comfort and bliss, and it attacked all of his senses with pleasantries.

"Uh, are you okay Rigby?" Mordecai asked, feeling Rigby's body melt and relax into his grip.

He was more than okay. He felt like he could fall asleep there, or at least spend an elongated period of time not moving from that spot. It was so comfortable. At that moment, Mordecai was the coolest guy in the world. He smelled good, he was soft like a bed, his voice vibrated Rigby's entire world…

Oh no.

Rigby realized what he was feeling, and what it meant. It was a curse that persons of his species had to live with, but one that Rigby rarely thought about. It hadn't happened to him. Ever. And yet he knew the feeling as though it were all too familiar, and he didn't know what to do next. He struggled to suppress his own body's natural reaction to a situation of deep comfort, but he knew that it wouldn't work. He would have broken free of the hug if he hadn't been completely incapacitated by its warmth. Before he knew it, it was too late. His body told Mordecai everything.

"Rigby… are you… purring?"

He was purring. He pushed Mordecai away in embarrassment and tried to think of something to say, but instead he just looked around, yammering non-words. His brow was tilted up and out. He looked desperate.

"Dude," Mordecai laughed, "That's so cute, you're like a little cat or something." Mordecai pronounced 'cute' as though it were spelled with a 'y' and several 'o's.

"Uh… oh man… no…" Rigby stammered sadly, as the purr died down to a quiet rumble.

"Aw, he's embarrassed. Wow, I didn't even know you COULD purr," Mordecai remarked, leaning on his hands behind him. "It's a little weird, but don't be so embarrassed man. It's cool. I've always wanted a pet." He announced the last part as if it were great news.

Rigby looked down at the ground as though he wanted to die. Mordecai stopped joking around when he realized that the whole situation was upsetting him. He leaned forward and put his hand on his small friend's shoulder.

Rigby felt the feeling coming back hard. He grabbed Mordecai's arm and pushed it away like it was poisonous. Mordecai came back with a chin scratch in an attempt to get Rigby to play with him and forget about whatever was bothering him.

"Cut it out," Rigby barked, smacking the hand away.

"Dude chill," Mordecai wailed, "So you 'purr,' whatever. What's the big deal?" It explained why Rigby had been so uncomfortable with physical interactions. It wasn't the manliest reaction to touch, but Mordecai didn't see a problem with it. If anything, it was fun, and he could use it to his advantage. "I think it's kind of cool, actually."

"It's… not that…" Rigby mumbled, sitting on his trampoline, which was still close to Mordecai's bed.

"Well then what is it?" Mordecai asked, leaning forward.

Rigby mumbled something that was barely audible.

"What was that?" Mordecai asked.

"It's only supposed to be…" Rigby finished his thought in a low grumble, which was again inaudible.

"Dude, spit it out," Mordecai commanded.

Rigby stamped his foot, not really wanting to say it, but at that point he had no choice.

"It's… It's…" Rigby began, "It's only supposed to be with girls, okay?"

"Wha… what do you mean?" Mordecai asked, not fully understanding.

Rigby sighed, now ready to reveal the full truth of it. "My parents told me when I was young that when I met the girl that I liked, 'this' would happen." He hung his head low and motioned to his own body, ready for Mordecai to freak out and kick him out of their room.

Mordecai sat in silence, thinking about what Rigby had just said. He had heard Rigby's trampoline creaking in the dead of night many a time. He had always wondered whom Rigby thought of. After a moment, he asked, "how long?"

"What do you mean, how long?" Rigby asked, lying down on his trampoline.

"Well, how long have you felt that way?" Mordecai asked, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

Rigby was astonished at Mordecai's level of comfort with the situation.

"I guess a really long time," Rigby said, hopping up on Mordecai's bed and sitting on its edge. "Probably since high school."

Mordecai smiled a little. He was honestly flattered, and in many ways happy to see this side of his friend, though he was probably not taking in the full gravity of the situation at hand. He was imagining that it was still a joke, and treating it as such, though he did believe Rigby's words.

"Hmm. Hmm. I knew I was sexy," Mordecai said with a sarcastic sternness.

Rigby laughed loudly at this. He was still amazed that Mordecai hadn't flipped out at him. He was being really chill about the whole thing. "So you're not mad, or weirded out at all?" Rigby asked.

"Naw dude, it is what it is. Hell, it's nice to know someone likes me," Mordecai confessed, getting up to sit on Rigby's trampoline. He noticed that it was very uncomfortable. "Eugh, this sucks," he added, "I can't believe you sleep on it."

"Yeah man… this thing's pretty sweet," Rigby remarked, patting Mordecai's queen sized mattress. "Big, too."

They both sighed and enjoyed their little moment of complacency. Rigby fell backward to get a better look at the ceiling. The light was a little too bright, so Mordecai got to his feet and clicked it off. Then, he returned to the trampoline and found a semi-comfortable way to enjoy it. The moon was rising through the window. They listened to each other's breath and basked in the silence. It was a rare moment of poignancy between the two of them. After a little while, it finally hit Mordecai. Rigby was in love with him. It didn't seem real.

"Rigby," Mordecai began, breaking the silence. "Can I ask, why?"

"Why what?" Rigby asked, leaning over the side of the bed.

"Why do you like me?" Mordecai replied.

"Oh, don't make me do this, man," Rigby moaned.

"C'mon, tell me. I'm just curious is all," Mordecai said. "I'm not gonna judge you, I've just never really had someone like me before."

Rigby groaned. He was going to have to. He wanted to do it, but he also felt like listing off the things he liked about Mordecai was a vulnerable act. He had already let his guard down this much.

"You've had plenty of people like you, Mordecai, you're just too dumb to know it," Rigby huffed.

"You really think so?" Mordecai asked.

"Yeah man! you're tall, you're funny, and you have a nice voice," Rigby listed from memory.

Mordecai absorbed each compliment. It was nice to have someone reassure him. "Aw, thanks. Anything else?" he begged, hoping to get a few more accolades to affirm himself.

"Yeah, look. I don't like doing this, can we talk about something else?" Rigby asked, getting a little sick of Mordecai knowing the truth.

"I'm sorry man, I just find it fascinating," Mordecai relinquished.

"What's so fascinating about it?" Rigby asked with a tinge of sass.

"You're telling me that you like me."

"Yes."

"Like, the way I like Margaret?"

"Yeah, I do. It's not like I want to, you know," Rigby snapped, giving Mordecai a crooked stare.

'That's just so weird," Mordecai laughed.

"Hey!" Rigby exclaimed.

"Well it is," Mordecai replied.

"I knew it. I shouldn't have told you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn't say weird was bad," Mordecai replied. "It's just different. I kind of like weird, you know?"

"You do?" Rigby asked.

"Sure, I mean, weird can be cool I guess," Mordecai said. "I'm weird, you're weird, the park is weird… I'm just saying, Rigby, don't worry about it. It doesn't bug me."

"I… You're not gonna tell anyone, are you?" Rigby asked.

Mordecai chuckled an assuring chuckle and stroked one Rigby's ears flat. It sprang back up as his thumb passed over it. "Your secret's safe with me, man."

Rigby blushed a little under his brown fur. This had turned out too perfect, almost suspiciously so, but he didn't want to read into it too much. For now, he was relieved of hiding his feelings, and that much was enough to make him forget the news Skips had given him.

"So," Rigby began, "I… um… is there any chance that… maybe… you might like me too?" He sounded mildly hopeful, and his face showed it.

Mordecai looked back at him, still softly gripping the right side of his head. His face filled with regret, and it told Rigby everything he needed to know.

"Ah. As I suspected," Rigby announced trying to remove Mordecai's hand. It wouldn't move.

"Mordecai, please let go," Rigby said, choking on his own tongue. He felt the bittersweet tickle of imminent emotion scratch at the back of his throat. He tried to suppress it, or at least not let it intrude on his voice.

Mordecai gripped harder and stared into Rigby's eyes. He could see the droplets forming. He assumed Rigby was embarrassed again, but he didn't want to let him leave again. He was sad too. In a way, it would have been perfect if he liked Rigby, but he just didn't. He watched Rigby struggle to remove his hand, but it was no use.

"Please," Rigby said, poorly disguising his voice. He felt Mordecai's thumb brush over his ear once again, and then he felt the arm bring him in again.

Mordecai squeezed his shorter friend and stroked the back of his head. He felt the moisture return to his chest feathers and felt Rigby's body hiccupping softly. Mordecai's body muffled the sound.


	9. Sunday, August 7th Pt 1

_Okay woah... lots of new reviews. Sorry about the wait guys._

_This story is FAR from over, so don't worry about that. August is a whole month, you know ;)_

_Alot of you are asking why this story is under "M." Well... let's get on with it, shall we?_

* * *

><p>Surprisingly, Mordecai had a tough time convincing Rigby to sleep in his bed. After the big reveal that night, Mordecai thought Rigby would be more than glad to hop into bed with him. But, as things go, Rigby was embarrassed. He was afraid of what he might do, or what he might feel. Mordecai insisted that it was strictly platonic, and that he really just wanted Rigby to know that he wasn't uncomfortable with the whole thing.<p>

It was weird, but ever since the accident, Mordecai had craved a night like this. He really wanted to be physically close to Rigby, and after Rigby's confession, Mordecai felt less embarrassed at his own reasons. After much convincing, Rigby finally caved and agreed to curling up with his best friend.

It was a slightly cold night for the month at hand, and Mordecai was glad to have a warm friend to hold and keep him warm. He would never have admitted it, but he often slept clutching a pillow roughly Rigby's size. In his arms, Rigby felt soft and a little delicate. He noticed the squirms, the purrs and the sighs that Rigby let out, suppressing his urges. Mordecai wrapped his arms around Rigby's mid-section in an attempt to stop the twists and turns of his sleep, but it was fruitless, and his touch only worsened Rigby's frustrated convulsions.

After much shifting, blushing and gasping, Rigby grew weary. He could feel Mordecai's chest rise and fall against his back, he could feel his waist being gently squeezed by his strong blue wings, he could even smell Mordecai's natural essence. (This was not something that he was proud of enjoying.) The feelings and aromas attacked his neglected sense of romance. He lifted up his cover, looked down, and was disappointed by what he already knew was there.

"Aw, dammit," he said, slamming the cover back down. He inched away from Mordecai's chest and toward the far wall, coming to a stop about half way.

"What's a matter?" Mordecai whispered, placing his wing on Rigby's tense shoulder. Rigby pulled it away and grimaced.

"I have a… it's… you know, like when you think about Margaret, I dunno," Rigby said, rolling onto his stomach.

"A stiffy?" Mordecai asked, rolling onto his back.

"HEY!" Rigby grunted, before he felt Mordecai's hand return to his shoulder. The fingers pinched and rolled his muscle, and before he knew it he was purring and sliding his face against the pillow. He slapped the hand away.

"CUT IT OUT! You're making it worse," Rigby whined. "If you're not into me, why are you doing this?"

Mordecai was silent for a moment, listening to the raccoon grumble. Rigby faced the wall with displeasure, and Mordecai felt a bit guilty. He hadn't know how Rigby would react to his touch, but as it turned out, his little friend's attraction was as real as it was sensitive.

"Rigby, I," Mordecai began, trying to put it lightly; "I thought that maybe if I let you hang out up here you'd get it out of your system."

Rigby slammed his fist down on the mattress, insulted.

"Out of my system? What do you mean, out of my system."

"I mean, the whole… you liking me thing."

"Oh yeah?"

He quietly got up and covered himself. Mordecai reached out to him as he stepped over his laying body, but Rigby rolled his shoulder to avoid the touch. He didn't need any more false promises of affection.

"Excuse me, I'm gonna go get you out of my 'system,'" Rigby said, glaring.

He slipped under the pile of laundry he kept on top of his trampoline and turned away from Mordecai.

"Rigby, I…"

"You think it's a phase."

"I just want to help you, dude."

"Yeah, well help this." Rigby was talking about his junk, though not in a way that was at all romantic.

"Look, I like you, man, you're my friend, and I don't want this thing to mess up what we have and stuff," Mordecai replied, leaning over the edge of his bed.

"Well this 'thing' isn't going away."

"Wait… are you talking about your boner, or your feelings for me?" Mordecai asked, pointing and tilting his head.

"BOTH! I mean… the feelings… and you… you're… SHUTTUP!"

Rigby buried himself under the pile of clothing that he never wore. Mordecai couldn't help but laugh a little at the outburst. He blushed a little. What made Rigby so annoying was also what make him so likable. It was almost cute. The laugh came from deep in his throat and sounded seductive. Rigby crawled out a bit and gave Mordecai a judgmental squint. Mordecai, realizing how ridiculous he sounded, retreated into his covers.

Rigby shrugged off the flirtatious laugh and went about getting 'it' out of his system, not caring that Mordecai was right there. Mordecai didn't hear the creaks from Rigby's trampoline. He was having confusing feelings himself. He couldn't figure why he had laughed that way, but something about teasing Rigby made him feel a little warm. It was warmth that stung his cheeks. It was uncomfortable. Neither of them slept well that awkward night.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 7th **

High Five Ghost was high above a tree, not far from Skips' house, surveying the heavens. He was feeling exceptionally strange as of late, though strange was an occupation of his.

He looked out on the distant mountains. In a way, he could see their history. Flames and smoke signals of old civilizations decorated the mountainside like many lanterns, and the twinkling cityscapes of the distant future towered above them. He could see the vague shapes of flying cars, but not their passengers. He could also see the flames of the apocalypse, way out in the distant horizon.

These images faded in and out of each other like the northern lights. They were always there, but an imaginary ring of about fifty miles kept his view of the present in the forefront. He could never explore the distant visions, but seeing them like this was enough to entertain him.

Skips looked around for the ghost, and spotted him hovering in front of moon. His silhouette showed that he was in fact, distressed. The moonlight was cast through his gaping frown, like a signal of some kind.

"Psst!" Skips whispered. It got the specters attention. Fives floated down, changing his mouth to match his pleasure at seeing Skips. When he finished his ascent, he hovered there for a moment, staring at the yeti while maintaining silence.

Skips eyed the ghost. His features were so simple that it was suspicious. Skips hadn't tried befriending HFG before because he knew how ghosts were.

"We have a problem," Skips said, turning around. He knew the ghost would follow.

"Yes," Fives said, trailing behind Skips. They passed in front of the trees that seemed gloomy in their presence.

"The creature has part of Rigby," Skips continued, not looking back.

"Does he now," the phantom replied, studying the flames in the distance.

"Are you even paying attention?" barked the yeti.

"Everything will bake…"

"Excuse me?"

"I see myself over there, only I'm much larger…"

"Fives?" With every step the park became more crowded with trees.

"I'm almost as tall as the flames…"

"FIVES!"

There was a silence, and then the phantom shook his head for one rapid moment.

"Oh, Skips! Hey, what's going on dude?" he asked. Apparently he hadn't been "there" for the majority of the walk.

Skips mouthed a grunt of complaint and slapped himself on the face.

"Oh," Fives said, sounding a bit disappointed, "was I… have we been talking for a while?"

"Yeah, sort of," Skips said, "you've just been saying cryptic stuff and ignoring me."

"Oh bullocks," the ghost said in a British accent, before clearing his throat and returning to his normal accent. "I mean… aw shoot. I'm embarrassed… It's gonna be hard to explain."

"Try me," Skips replied, sitting down cross-legged. They had arrived at his favorite clearing, and the moon was visible through a large hole in the canopy.

"Well," the ghost began, "sometimes I see stuff that isn't really there." His tone had returned to its normal vibrato.

"What kinds of stuff?" Skips asked.

"I usually don't remember. It's a little bit like what you would call a dream, there one moment and gone the next. Why, do you remember what I said?"

"You said that everything would bake, and that you were as tall as the flames… some crazy stuff."

"Hmmm… Must've been a nightmare," the spirit said with a chuckle.

"Right…" Skips replied, starting to regret coming to the ghost with his problem.

"So," Fives started saying, "what's up, why are we hangin' out?"

"Well, as I was saying, we have a problem," replied Skips gravely.

"Yeah man, tell me about it," said Fives, rolling his eyes.

"What do you mean 'tell me about it?'" Skips asked.

"I dunno, just filling up space," the ghost laughed.

"Excuse me for being rude, Fives, but what the heck is wrong with you?"

"I'm dead and I have a hard time communicating with people," he said, blinking at a rock on the ground.

Skips saw the sad looking ghost and bit the inside of his cheek. "Look, I'm sorry…"

The ghost continued looking at the rock for a few moments, and looked up at skips with a smile. "What? Oh, hi Skips, whaddaya need?"

Skips nearly tossed a tree with frustration. But, he centered himself, cleared his throat and got on with it.

"The creature has part of Rigby," he said, with a grave seriousness.

"Part of his soul?" the ghost asked, lifting his eyes.

"Yeah… not much of it, but enough to be bad."

"Oh… no, no, no, that's no good," replied the ghost with a worry in his brow.

"I was hoping you would know something about it. Is there a spell or something?" he asked, getting up to gather some firewood. He snapped a branch off a dry tree.

"Not that I know of," said the ghost with regret. "Then again, I'm not really into magic that much."

"I came to you because you probably know more about souls than I do," said Skips. "I'm seriously at a loss. I can't let Rigby down, but what can I do about it?"

"Hmm… I'm not much of an expert on anything, Skips."

High Five Ghost thought hard to himself.

"Well let's start with the basics, try to get an understanding of what we're dealing with. How'd you become a spirit? What happened to your body?"

"Oh geez… that was a long time ago. My parents say that we were all in a car wreck. I lost my arm, hence the one arm thing, but again, it was so long ago. They could have made it up."

"Wait… are your parents ghosts too?"

"Yeah, the whole family, why do you ask?"

"I don't know, that just seems strange. What happened to your guys' souls?"

"Apparently my dad sold us all to a wizard for happiness and wealth. In any case, it's no big deal. I like being this way…"

The spirit gave a smile of regret at some distant vision.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," Skips said.

"No, no, it's fine," replied Fives. "It was a long time ago."

"So why do you do it?" Skips asked.

"Do what?" asked the ghost.

"Work here, at the park. What do ghosts do with money? You don't need to eat, do you?"

At this point, Skips was just curious. In all of his years, he hadn't really taken the time to get to know a spirit, and the idea fascinated him. He was interested in the idea of such an alternative style of immortality.

High Five Ghost reflected on this for a moment. "I'm not entirely sure. I like doing it, I guess. I like having responsibilities."

"Interesting." Skips produced a flint from his back pocket. When he struck it on a nearby rock, it spat golden sparks onto the prepared kindling, which quickly became a hot blaze.

"Why the fire?" Fives asked, studying the yeti's process.

"Helps get everything movin'," Skips replied, coldly.

Fives was a bit puzzled by Skips' wording, but assumed he would find out what he meant soon.

He snapped an old looking branch off a nearby tree and tore off some of the bark. He tossed the strips of bark onto the fire, and with each new one, green sparks rose into the night and lit up the canopy.

Fives smiled at the dazzling campfire and rested on a branch slightly off to the side. He watched as Skips murmured something into a handful of leaves before blowing it upon the fire. They burnt up, and their ashes made a star chart in the air immediately above the tallest flame. The spirit's eye sockets swelled at the sight, and he came closer to examine the floating glyph. After some time staring at it together, the ghost said, simply:

"This is nice."

Skips chuckled under his breath in agreement. Together they watched the spiraling cosmos of ashes twirl over the fire, and they gazed into it, hoping for some kind of resolve.

"So, what exactly is this supposed to do?" Fives asked, breaking his gaze with the fire.

"It doesn't 'exactly' do anything. It's a visual guide, something hypnotic. Gets us thinking," Skips replied, looking for disturbances in the visual.

Fives chuckled. "We have a lava lamp back at our house, couldn't we have just used that?"

At this remark, even Skips couldn't keep a straight face.

"It's also a visual projection of the area's aura," replied the yeti with a laugh. "A trained eye can ask anything and find the answer within this vision."

High Five Ghost nodded and looked back at the flame, trying to discover what his eyes couldn't see.

"So don't you have a 'trained eye'?" the ghost asked.

"No. I used the word 'trained' wrong. It's not something that you can really train yourself to do. It's more like a talent, I would imagine."

"I bet you could learn, Skips," the ghost replied, looking into the spiraling ashes. "Do you know anyone with a 'trained eye' like you said? Someone who could help us?"

"I do know of some, but most of them wouldn't help us," the yeti said. His tone was gravely.

The fire flared green for a moment. The green heat felt good against their faces.

"Why wouldn't they help us?" Fives asked. His sheen outline absorbed the green, and became iridescent.

"Look, Fives, I stopped hanging around with magical beings a long time ago. They're all trouble," Skips replied.

The ghost looked down at the ground. "We're not all bad, Skips."

"Oh, shit." Skips said, correcting his mistake, "Not all of them are trouble, just, 'most' of 'em. You get what I meant, right?"

The ghost blinked a few times.

"Look, Fives, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," Skips pleaded.

"Didn't mean what?" the ghost asked with a smile, looking away from the fire again.

The yeti laughed and said "Nuthin'. Forget I said anything."

Skips had been graced with a welcome and unlikely night of bonding with a stranger, and a fellow immortal. He felt that only good could come of it. As they watched the hypnotic fire late in the night, Skips grew tired. He sat down on a pile of leaves. He tried to stay awake, but when his sleepiness became too much, his eyelids fell, and he collapsed into the leaves.

Skips rubbed his eyes at the bright sunrise. Surprisingly, Fives was still feeding the fire with scraps of wood. The hovering glyph was still spinning.

Skips said "good mornin'" with a grizzly yawn. "Did ya find out anything?"

"Not yet," replied the ghost, throwing a log on the fire, "but I think I'm getting close. See that cluster of stars? It's starting to change, can you see it? Can you see it changing?"

Skips laughed and got to his feet. Then, he noticed a grumbling in his stomach. "I know you don't need to eat, but seeing as we have this fire, how about we cook something up?"

The ghost stared into the ash-star cluster, ignoring Skips.

"Fives?" the yeti asked.

The ghost continued staring. He whispered something under his breath.

"FIVES!" Skips shouted.

Fives tilted to one side, and then his eyes shut. When he opened them, he noticed Skips.

"Oh, good morning Skips! I watched the fire for you," the ghost declared, proudly, once again forgetting that he had already been speaking with yeti for a few minutes.

Skips groaned. This was gonna get annoying.

"Do you want me to cook up some food, since we still have a fire?" the yeti asked, hoping that the slight rewording would stick.

"Hmm… If you're offering, why not?" replied the ghost, smiling wider than before.

Skips nodded and gave an agreeable grunt before skipping into a nearby bush and disappearing.

The ghost returned his attention to the glowing campfire, and had an idea. He approached the hovering glyph until he was inside it, and allowed the ashes to pass through his transparent body. Soon, he was taken over by a vision and his eyes grew wide. He couldn't move.

Skips entered the kitchen and looked at the clock. It was 6am. He went into the fridge and grabbed some eggs, bacon and a few slices of bread. He put these items in a basket and left out the front door.

As he left, he thought of the creature. He hadn't checked on it all night, so he made sure to stop by his shack to inspect it.

He cracked the door to his home, and was greeted with an awful smell. He batted at the air in a poor attempt at avoiding the stench. It was musty, like old trash. He peered around the corner, and was shocked at the image he saw.

The creature had swelled to a size greater than the terrarium could hold, and the glass was cracking. The appalling smell was from a purple ooze that was leaking out of the cracked glass. The creature had been punctured in its growth, and it was sobbing softly. Its cries almost sounded human. Not knowing what to do, Skips dropped the basket and dashed out the door, making quick progress of the walk back to the fire.

When he arrived at the fire, he was once again, shocked. The glyphs were entering and exiting Five's mouth, and his eyes were glowing.

"Oh my god Fives!" the yeti shouted. He tried to approach the fire, but a wave of energy blew him back. The Ghost looked at him with a menacing stare, and his mouth gaped. It produced words, though his lips didn't mouth them.

"THE LITTLE ONE WILL BE TAKEN IN TWO DAYS TIME…"

The loud words blew Skips back even more, and he dragged his fingers through the dirt, trying to stay close. The voice was big and unearthly.

"IT CANNOT BE STOPPED…"

Skips' fur was ravaged by the blast, and ruffled like a field being blown.

"YOU… YOU WANT TO SAVE HIM," the voice said. Five's face grew larger, and flames escaped his mouth. They were white with heat, and singed the yeti's fur.

"Fives, snap out of it!" Skips cried, gripping a handful of grass and pulling himself closer to the fire.

"YOU CAN'T STOP IT! YOU'LL NEVER STOP IT!"

In a flash, the area was covered in the dense smoke of an extinguished flame. Skips coughed and got to his feet, blinded by the smoke. All he heard was a low sizzle and someone panting.

"Fives!" Skips shouted, unable to see anything. As the smoke cleared, he saw the familiar silhouette of a large green man. Muscle Man was coughing and holding an empty bucket. Just then, a heavy gust kicked up the smoke and revealed the scene. There was a crater where the campfire had been, and High Five Ghost was limp on the ground.

"Oh no…" the yeti said, approaching the deflated spirit. He assumed the worst, until Muscle Man stepped in and picked the ghost up by his only hand.

"Bro. Bro! Gettup," Muscleman grumbled, hoping to reinvigorate his friend.

The ghost's eyes opened once again, and he coughed a few times before shaking himself of the ashes.

"I told you I wasn't good with all that magic stuff," he said with a pained chuckle. "Thanks dude." He smiled at Muscle Man.

Skips almost hugged him with relief, but he was not hugger. He heaved a sigh of relief and patted the weary ghost on the back.

"What the heck were you two idiots doing out here anyways?" Muscle Man asked, picking his nose.

Skips and Fives looked at each other, than back at muscleman, and said "nuthin."

Back at the house, the sun was beginning to make its way through Mordecai and Rigby's window. Its beams shocked Rigby's eyelids open. The raccoon rubbed his eyes and twisted his neck, getting out a particularly angst filled crick. He scratched the back of his neck and got to his feet. His body was sore and not well rested. He eyed Mordecai's unconscious figure and glared, wishing he had never told the bird his big secret.

He wandered slowly down the hall, fighting with his own tiredness. When he arrived at the bathroom door, he gave two knocks and twisted the golden handle, sure that it was vacant.

His hand grabbed the plastic shower curtain and he pushed it aside. Then, he twisted the silver knob and let the cold water assault his still-sleepy face. He let it heat up and defeat the coldness. The quick temperature change invigorated his every fiber, and he let out an "ah." This was his time. Or was it?

He heard a twist, and the door opened quietly.

"You know, man," Mordecai began softly, closing the door once again. "You shouldn't shower this early, you're just gonna stink again later anyways."

Rigby watched a blue hand enter the shower, grab the curtain and push it aside. Mordecai stepped in, and his head blocked the stream of water. He looked down and smiled, shyly.

"That's why I always do it before bed…"

His tone was an unfamiliar brand, a friendly mix of care and good humor.

They shared a lengthy glance. Rigby watched Mordecai's face and body, deep in wonder and confusion. His feathers were taking on the water quickly, and the bird started looking shaggy and frayed. Mordecai broke the silence.

"I guess it's worth a shot, huh?"

Rigby approached slowly and hugged Mordecai around the waist, and together they soaked in the almost-too-hot water that dripped from the birds chin.

Mordecai looked up at the ceiling and sighed nervously. He was scared of what this meant, but he was also happy to try it. He loved Rigby in a way, even if it wasn't out of romance.

They eventually found themselves covered head to toe in suds and the sweet smells of "masculine" body wash, which really just smelled like flowers. They tried to muffle their gasps as best they could, but their first exploration was as heated as the drops of cleansing water that rained upon their grounded bodies. Mordecai sat cross-legged, and Rigby laid next to him. There was blushing, chuckling, tickling and some mild hitting. (They weren't going to change that much; they still liked testing each other's limits.) The suds swirled around the drain before being swallowed up.

Mordecai was left panting and coughing, his lungs filled with steam. Rigby rubbed his nose against the chest of his friend and let out a happy sigh. If it were a game, Rigby won. He shifted his face so that his chin ran against the curve of Mordecai's ribcage, and he smiled up at his friend.

Rigby rubbed Mordecai's side and got up, stepping out onto the bathmat. He gave a quick shake to get rid of the immediate water that clung to his fur. He breathed out heavily, satisfied with his morning activity. Then, he got up on his stool and rubbed the mirror with his elbow to clear the fog. He went about brushing his teeth as normal while Mordecai laid, recovering.

Mordecai cleared his throat and lifted his head off the hard floor of the tub. He sat up and pushed the curtain aside to get a better look at Rigby. The air outside of the bath was chilling by comparison, and quickly shot through his feathers. It was welcome, as he was burning up.

"Dude…" Mordecai panted, leaning over the edge of the tub. Rigby looked back and laughed with his toothbrush still in his mouth. Mordecai smiled and chuckled nervously. He relaxed back into the tub's contour and looked up at the ceiling, not entirely sure what to think of what he had just had.

Suddenly, they heard a familiar, irritable voice at the door.

"Rigby, I need to talk to you…"

Benson was as loud as usual, and just as inconsiderate of their privacy. He practically tore the door open.

"Alright, Rigby, there's a problem. The creature is going crazy, and… uh…"

"…"

"Why are you wet? Who's in the shower?"

Mordecai's eyes widened. How could they have been so stupid? He covered his face in shame and waited for the onslaught of extreme humiliation.

"Mordecai sprayed me with the thingy," Rigby said coldly, continuing to brush his teeth.

Mordecai slid closer to the drain, astonished at Rigby's quick thinking.

"Mordecai, stop screwing around," Benson said, before grabbing Rigby and dragging him out the door. Rigby grabbed a towel out of the laundry bin as he was torn away.

"So as I was saying, the creature thing is going bananas. Skips doesn't know what to do, and I'm at a loss. It likes you, why don't you try talking to it?"

The pictures on the walls whizzed by as Rigby was yanked through the hallway. He was too tired even register what the gumball machine was saying, and he was still trying to cope with the fact that he and his friend had just been intimate.

Meanwhile, Mordecai continued panting as the hot water rained on him. He immediately regretted what he and his friend did, though it had been far better than he could have predicted. He rolled on his side and looked at the side of the tub, deep in thought.

After a minute of replaying the event over and over in his head, he stood up and turned off the water. He felt sour; he had enjoyed it too much. In fact, he had loved it. It felt better than most things he could think of. Rigby had been so cool and calculated, as if he were skilled in the act. Mordecai knew that Rigby was a virgin, but his prowess said otherwise.

He had avoided eye contact during their session out of fear. He didn't want to feel a real attraction his friend, but the few times their eyes met, Mordecai's heart swelled. He felt a bit like crying. He was so confused.

Benson held Rigby's arm hard and dragged him at a quick pace, but by the time the two had arrived at Skips' house, the creature had stopped convulsing. Skips and High Five Ghost were watching the terrarium, worried. It had been moving around in a way that was loud and unnerving, all while bleeding purple and making a puddle of it.

"It stopped shortly after you left," Skips said as Benson dragged the raccoon into his home. When he and Fives noticed Rigby, they gave each other a nervous glance. Rigby was too tired to notice.

"So that's it, then?" Benson asked.

"Well, not exactly," Skips said. "The creature mimics Rigby, even if he's far away from it."

Rigby's knees buckled at the sound of those words.

"What were you doing a few minutes ago?" the yeti asked.

"Mordecai," Rigby thought.

"Uh…" Rigby said, suddenly empty headed. He had to think quickly. "I was having a nightmare."

He took his towel off his waist and started drying out his ear to hide his lie.

Just then, Mordecai entered the room with towel around his waste.

"Uh, hey guys… what's going on?" he asked, pausing to look at Rigby.

"Why do you guys both have towels?" Fives asked.

"I sprayed him with the thing," Mordecai said, remembering Rigby's excuse.

Just then, the creature started growing again, shattering its glass prison even more.

"Alright, we gotta get that thing to the dump right now," Skips said in a panic. "Rigby, you're coming with me. Don't want you having any 'nightmares' while I'm gone."

"Aw, what?" Rigby exclaimed. "I don't wanna be near that thing."

"Too bad. I can't have it tearing my head off on account of you playing jax or whatever it is you do," the yeti replied.

"Rigby," Benson said, "Just do what he says."

The raccoon looked up at Mordecai, who nodded. Then, he let out a drawn out "fine," and sat down on a chair in the corner of the room.

"This is actually perfect," Benson said. "Mordecai's supposed to get his stitches out today, right?"

"Right," Mordecai said, having completely forgotten.

"Alright then, Skips can take Rigby and I'll take you," Benson said with a smirk.

"What are we, your kids?" Rigby asked with a grumble and an eye roll.

Benson glared at Rigby, who decided it would be better if he waited in the cart outside. Mordecai followed, and High Five Ghost wandered after with no intent on staying with them.

Skips went about wrapping the terrarium in a dirty towel, and Benson watched.

"Look… Skips, I'm sorry about yesterday," Benson said, looking down and scratching his neck.

"Lemme guess. You found the pictures," Skips said, finalizing the wrapping.

"…Uh… I… you knew about those?"

"Of course I knew about 'em, I put them there."

"But what about all that stuff you said about forgetting, and magic?"

"Look, Benson, there's a lot of stuff you can do with magic, but forgetting isn't one of them. Believe me, I've tried."

"But you said…"

"I lied."

With that, the yeti lifted the terrarium and started walking. Benson stopped him before he made it to the front door.

"So… all these years? You acted like we were strangers when I came back," he said, sounding more regretful than angry.

"I did it because I didn't want you to get hurt and all that crap, now excuse me this things a ticking time bomb. We can deal with this later," Skips replied.

Benson put up his hands, let the yeti pass, and watched him go.


	10. Sunday, August 7th Pt 2

Rigby sat in the passenger seat of Skips' souped up golf cart, looking at his feet and swinging his legs. His hair was still a bit wet, so he was busy roughing it up with his towel.

Mordecai stood nearby, watching Rigby's swinging legs. He cleared his throat, and Rigby removed the towel and looked at him. Mordecai coughed again, and Rigby smiled.

"Sup?" Rigby asked, drying the inside of his left ear.

"Uh, ya know, just standing," Mordecai replied, tapping his foot and looking away.

"Yeah?" Rigby asked, just filling out the conversation.

"Yeah," replied Mordecai, blushing a little.

Rigby reached for a pebble that was at his feet and chucked it at Mordecai, and it hit him in the arm. Mordecai laughed and followed up with his own pebble, which Rigby narrowly avoided by ducking. He chuckled at his small victory as Skips appeared outside.

"Let's roll, mo fo," Rigby said to the grumbling yeti. Skips plopped the shattering terrarium in the back seat and sat himself down in the driver's seat. He stabbed the ignition with his key and turned it, and as he did the vehicle roared to life.

Rigby gave Mordecai a little wave as the vehicle cruised off in the distance. Mordecai watched and heaved a heavy sigh. He felt a smile creep across his face, but caught it before it reached its full curve. Benson appeared behind him, once again looking pretty distraught.

"You wanna get going?" Benson asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Mordecai said, scratching the area above his heart.

They each took their seats in the other cart, which hadn't been modified by the resident yeti. Benson gently inserted the key in the ignition, and the vehicle lazily grumbled until it sputtered into life.

"Gee, I hope Skips fixes this one too," said Benson with a chuckle. He stepped on the gas pedal and it lurched forward, albeit slowly.

Mordecai rested his head on his hand and his elbow on the side of the cart. He gave a slow sigh as he watched the park disappear on his right. His feathers dried quickly in the gust, which was both chilling and pleasant.

"So who is she?" asked Benson as they passed by the coffee shop.

Mordecai was startled by Benson's remark, and whipped his head forward.

"What do you mean?" Mordecai asked with a nervous chuckle.

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" asked Benson with a big grin.

"I mean… what… do you mean?" Mordecai asked, still confused.

"You're glowing," replied Benson with utmost friendliness.

"Uh…"

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," Benson said, patting the blue jay on the back. "Congrats though."

"Congrats on what?" Mordecai asked, trying to sound innocent. _"__Is__it__really__that__obvious?__" _

Benson gave him a look of smarmy content, and Mordecai looked away.

"Don't be embarrassed," Benson laughed. "Look, you're off the clock, we can be buds right?"

Mordecai was shocked at the awkwardness. Benson had never hinted at wanting to be friends with him. He made the face he normally made when he smelled spoiled milk, but looked away from Benson so he couldn't see it.

Just then, the cart screeched to a halt.

"Fuck. Fucking traffic," Benson said, trying to strangle the steering wheel with his grip. He tried to honk the horn, but it wouldn't make any noise. "Great, that needs to be fixed to." He swatted an imaginary fly on the dashboard.

Mordecai itched his stitches on his back and prayed that the traffic would break up before his boss really got angry.

Back at the park, Fives was once again sitting atop his favorite tree, staring at the distant visions. He heard a friendly voice from down below call up to him.

"Fives, yo Fives!" Muscle Man shouted.

The ghost looked down.

"The boss is away, right?" the green man asked. He was holding a baseball bat.

"Yeah, I think so," Fives replied.

"Wanna smash something?" Muscleman asked.

High Five Ghost smirked and floated down slowly.

In Skips' cart, the road was flying by. Rigby was lost in a thought about Mordecai. Skips' mind was focused on the impending nightmare that sat in the back of his vehicle, and he was trying to think of a way to get it out of his head.

"So Rigby," Skips said.

"Yeah?"

"What's up kid, you're in a good mood today," Skips remarked, climbing a large onramp.

"Uh, I guess I am, yeah," Rigby replied, letting out a distant sigh. He looked out the side so the yeti couldn't see his grin.

Skips laughed. "What's up with that?"

"What do you mean?" Rigby asked, turning to the yeti.

"I dunno, you're never in a great mood, what did you kiss a girl or something?" he added.

Rigby gave him a glare, and behind them the creature hissed. Skips backed off the subject.

"Touchy," the yeti grumbled.

Rigby brought his eyes back to the passing road and saw the dump looming in the distance ahead of them. He shuddered at the memory of what had happened less than a week ago.

"You cool with this?" Skips asked as they found a parking spot in the dump's lot.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Rigby lied, as he hopped out of the passenger seat.

Skips lifted the terrarium with both of his hands. He could feel the leathery tentacles squirming beneath the towel. It stunk, so he moved quickly toward the deep trash pit. Rigby galloped behind on all fours. The beaver that ran the place was cross-armed and friendly, up ahead.

"Paul, how's it going?" Skips asked, struggling with the tentacles beneath the towel.

The scruffy beaver laughed a wheezy laugh. "I'm good, Skips. Real good."

"Where do you want it?"

The beaver pointed to a small clearing he had made at the bottom of the cavernous bowl of garbage.

They made their way down the side of the crater. The trash bags were built up high in the center. With no way to dispose of them, the town didn't have any other choice but to chuck them in the huge ditch. Skips set the terrarium down in the dirt and watched it shatter. The creature unfolded its thick arms and relaxed.

Rigby sighed, as did the creature.

"Ugh. When is this thing gonna stop with the copying crap? I'm getting sick of it," Rigby moaned.

Just then, Skips had an idea.

"Hey, Rigby, grab that trash bag," he said, pointing to one with a red plastic chord around its neck.

"Why?" Rigby asked, making his way over to it.

"No, not with your arms, with his," Skips exclaimed, pointing to the creature.

"What do you ― oh!" Rigby said, moving his arm around and watching it mimic him.

The raccoon motioned his arm over to the right. It was a bit like a crane game: extremely clumsy. He brought its arm over to the bag and went down to grab it. Instead, he grabbed a tentacle full of dirt.

"Damnit," he grunted.

"No, no, keep tryin'," Skips replied.

Rigby brought the creature's arm back to the trash bag, and this time he successfully grabbed it by the handle.

"Whoa…" he remarked. "I think I can feel it."

"The bag?" Skips asked.

"Yeah," Rigby replied, fixing his eyes on the trash bag that he held from a distance. He swung it around gently with delight. His laughter was menacing in a way that was non-threatening.

"Try feeding it," Skips chuckled, settling down in an Indian sit on the ground.

"Yeah, okay," Rigby said with a nod. He brought his fist above his head and watched the monster dangle the bag way up in the air. He released his fist and felt the plastic slip between his fingers. The bag landed with a wet thud on the creature's skin. Little tendrils shot out and clung to the bag. They tore into it and spilled its contents everywhere. More tendrils came out and snatched up the morsels of rotten food and cardboard.

"Cool," Rigby droned. The sounds were slurpy and unnerving. They upset Skips a little, but he did enjoy moments that were unfamiliar. At his age he had seen everything. Well, almost everything.

Rigby shot an evil grin at Skips and growled, "I wonder if it works on people."

Skips was genuinely frightened for a moment until Rigby started cackling. "Not so big and tough now, huh Skips?"

Skips got to his feet and gave the raccoon a gentle but angry noogie.

"You're alright for a little creep," Skips chuckled.

"Well you're alright for an old guy," Rigby snickered, pushing Skips' arm away from him.

"C'mon, let's get some grub," Skips said, making his way back up the side of the pit. Rigby followed on all fours. Behind them, the creature reached out to Rigby.

Meanwhile, Mordecai and Benson were still in heavy traffic. They had only made it a few blocks past the coffee shop, and Benson was starting to chip his teeth from grinding them so much.

"Hey, uh, Benson?" Mordecai asked.

"WHAT?" Barked his boss.

"I was just thinking, the coffee shop is right back there and…"

"Wait. I'm sorry. I just lashed out at you," Benson said.

"Nah dude it's okay, anyways, should I go back there and maybe get us some…"

"No, no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't do that all the time," Benson insisted.

"Well, apology accepted, I guess," Mordecai sighed. "Anyways, you want a coffee?"

"Yeah, here," said Benson, handing Mordecai a red plastic card.

Mordecai smiled, nodded, and made his way down the block toward the familiar coffee shop.

As he walked, he glanced over at the large glass storefronts into his reflection. He could see what Benson meant. It was as though his face had been hit with an allergic reaction of some kind. His cheeks were full and tinted red, his lips were turned slightly up and his eyes were permanently tilted outward. He shook his head and managed to discard the look temporarily when he walked into the coffee shop.

He sat down at his usual table and fidgeted his thumbs. Eileen came over to take his order and he barely noticed that Margaret wasn't there.

"Hey Mordecai, what's up?" Eileen asked, looking up at him.

"Oh, you know, not much," Mordecai replied.

"I know what you mean," said Eileen with a friendly chuckle. "So what do you want?"

"Just two coffees, black. To go," Mordecai said, with the look returning to his face.

"Two coffees, black. Got it," she said, turning back toward the kitchen. She returned with two hot paper cups.

"So aren't you gonna ask where Margaret is today?" Eileen asked, handing Mordecai the two cups.

"Margaret? Oh, yeah Margaret, where is she?" Mordecai said, remembering who she was.

"She took the day off, she's sick," Eileen replied, taking the plastic card from Mordecai and walking away to swipe it in the back.

She returned, and handed it back to him. It was wrapped in the receipt for the two coffees. "She's having a rough week, you should go see her," she added.

Mordecai thought on this for a second. He didn't even know where she lived. He hadn't thought about her when he came in, either.

Before he left, she added one more thing. "Oh, by the way, where's Rigby?"

"He's at the dump," Mordecai said. "Why?"

"I don't know, it's just weird not seeing him with you," she replied. "You guys are adorbs together… no offense," she said, blushing.

Mordecai faked a laugh and told her he had to go. "Thanks for the coffee!"

Outside, he got stressed again. He looked around him. It felt like everyone was staring at him, as if they knew. After a minute of walking, he saw his boss gritting his teeth. The cart had only moved forward about one block

Mordecai silently sat down in the passenger's seat and handed Benson his coffee, along with the receipt and his card.

"Oh, this is great, thank you," Benson said. The welcome distraction of something to drink was enough to diffuse some of his anger.

"Jeez, this traffic is a nightmare," Mordecai said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Back at the dump, Rigby and Skips had finished their ascent up the side of the cliff of garbage. They made their way to the parking lot, and got into their respective golf cart.

"So what do you wanna eat," Skips asked, starting the engine.

"Something big," Rigby said, clenching his fists.

Skips laughed. "Be a little more specific."

"You like subs?" Rigby asked.

"Yeah, let's hit up a pizza joint or something," Skips said.

"You payin'?" Rigby asked.

"How'd you guess?" replied skips.

"Old people always pay for the food," Rigby said.

Skips laughed again. "I like you, Rigby, even if you are an imp."

"An imp?" Rigby asked.

"Well, not a real one," Skips replied as they exited the parking lot. "I've met a couple real ones."

"Wait, like demons?"

"Yup."

The cart sped up as they got on the highway.

"Demon's are real?"

"They sure are," Skips said. "Hard to kill, to."

"Jesus," Rigby replied.

"I've seen some stuff, Rigby," Skips said coldly.

"What kinds of stuff?" Rigby asked, wide eyed.

Back at the park, Muscleman was destroying a busted microwave while Fives watched, delighted.

"Take that!" Muscleman shouted as he brought the bat across the face of the junked appliance. He laughed as the glass shattered.

"Where'd you find this thing?" the ghost asked.

"Some chump dumped it off behind the house. That'll teach you to throw things away!" he hollered, giving it another whack.

Benson relaxed a bit when the cars up ahead of him started moving. Unfortunately for Mordecai, friendly Benson was more stressful than regular, pissed off Benson. The gumball machine continued prying for information from Mordecai, who was tight lipped for the remainder of the ride.

As they drove, they discovered the reason for the heavy traffic. It was a minor car wreck involving an older man and a half naked wizard.

Benson took a sip of his black coffee. "Wow, you know, that place makes a really good cup of Joe."

Mordecai was silent.

"Mordecai?"

"Hm?" the blue jay asked, with a hint of sorrow in his voice.

"Hey, you're awfully quiet today, pal. Something on your mind?"

"Naw man," Mordecai said, "just tired."

"Whatever you say, bud," Benson sighed. "Listen, I know how love can be. I just want you to know…"

"I'm not in love! Stop it, stop saying that! Get off it! What's with all this friendly stuff anyways?" Mordecai shouted. This time, Benson was silent.

"What?" Mordecai asked. "Aren't you gonna yell at me or something?"

"No. You don't listen when I yell," Benson replied, coldly. "There's the hospital, take this walkie-talkie. Call me when you're done."

Benson parked the cart for a second so Mordecai could get out, and sped off. Mordecai watched the cart leave down the road, and felt weighted down by another heap of guilt.

Mordecai walked into the hospital, and the doctor happened to be talking to a woman at the front desk. After exchanging hellos, Mordecai was brought to a small room and given an apron that tied in the back. A nurse came in. She was bulky, but she beamed friendliness. Her hair was in a tight bun, and for a large woman she had a small, pretty face. She asked him about his cut, specifically whether he had been keeping it clean and dry.

_"__My__buddy__Rigby__scrubbed__me__down__really__good__this__morning__…"_

"Yeah, I've been keeping it clean. It's been a bit itchy today though," Mordecai replied.

"The itching is normal," the nurse said. "As long as it isn't infected, it should be fine. Let me get a closer look."

Mordecai sat down on a medical bench and hung his head low.

The woman parted his blue feathers to get a better look at the stitches. "Ah, this is good. Healed well, and minimal scarring. Looks like you got lucky."

"Really? Minimal scarring?" Mordecai asked.

"Yep. Now lay down so we can get these things out of you," she replied.

"Already?" he asked, getting on his stomach.

"Yeah, why not? Listen, you don't want to be in here all day, huh?" she said, grabbing a rather menacing looking clipping tool.

"Is it gonna hurt?"

"Oh yeah. It's gonna feel like I'm tearing out your spine," she said.

Mordecai looked up at her with fear in his eyes.

"Relax, I've already taken out two of them. You didn't feel them, right?"

"Well, I…"

"If I tell you it's gonna feel like hell, then it won't hurt as much, plus, now you're not thinking about 'it' anymore, right?"

"'It'?" he replied.

"You seem stressed, kiddo. Relax," she said, rubbing his shoulders. For some reason, her touch didn't make him uncomfortable. She clipped another couple of stitches and pulled them out with her tweezers. "There, we're almost done, put your head down, okay?"

Mordecai rest his head and let the nurse finish taking out the stitches.

"Oh, yeah, one more thing," the woman said. "Why'd you put on the scrub? You came in naked."

"Uh…" Mordecai declared.

The woman laughed.

Meanwhile, at a stingy looking pizza place, Rigby was sitting down to enjoy a sandwich with Skips. Rigby got a meatball sub, and Skips got a Reuben. They bought a bottle of root beer to split between two plastic cups. Skips, who wasn't even sure if he was telling the truth anymore, had spun a tale that Rigby was entirely absorbed in.

"And then what happened?" Rigby asked with a mouth full of chewed meat.

"Well, as I was saying, I was standing on the roof with my baseball bat, and I was completely surrounded. They were everywhere, you could hardly see the ground," Skips said, Pausing between sentences to chomp at his sandwich. "I could hear their pincers clicking together."

"So wait, were they giant spiders, or giant rats?" Rigby asked, swallowing a mouthful of meatballs.

"Both," replied Skips, drinking from his plastic cup of soda. "They were giant rat spiders."

"Whoa," cooed Rigby. "Continue."

"Anyways, there I was, on the roof. One of the little freaks got brave and tried to sneak up the chimney, so I splattered the bastard," Skips continued, slamming his hand on the flimsy table. Rigby jumped with glee at the mental image.

"What color was its blood?" the raccoon asked, taking another large bite of his sub. His eyes were filled with playful bloodlust.

"Green, like acid. Matter of fact, it was acid, now that I think of it."

"They bled acid?" Rigby asked, with a mouth full of chewed meat and awe.

"You bet they did. Ate right through the roof," Skips replied.

"Wow," remarked Rigby, chugging his plastic cup. "How'd you get out?" he asked as he refilled it.

"Well," Skips said, trying to think of a conclusion to his partially fabricated story. "Did you know Benson used to have a helicopter?"

Rigby's eyes grew wide. He was spellbound.

"Just before the bastards got to me, Benson comes ridin' in his whirlybird with an AK over his shoulder. He parked the thing in the air and just started blastin'."

"That is so awesome," Rigby said, staring dead ahead. His pupils were dilated.

"Yep. After we iced all the mutants, Maelard made us rebuild the whole house."

"Was this like, back in the seventies, when you guys worked together?" Rigby asked, finishing off the root beer.

Skips blinked and looked around rapidly.

"From those old pictures, it looks like you guys used to be good buds," Rigby said, reclining into the curved wooden booth and stretching his tummy.

"You found those, huh?" Skips grunted.

"Yeah, man, looked like some good times," Rigby replied, itching his well-fed belly.

"Yeah, I guess they were," Skips chuckled. "Hey, is that a pinball machine?"

"Yeah, I think it is," Rigby sighed, looking over at it. "Looks sort of familiar…"

Rigby stared at it for moment, and then it hit him: he knew this pizza place all too well.

"Oh my god! This is the place!" Rigby shouted, getting up to get a closer look at the pinball machine.

"Wait what are you on about?" Skips asked, joining him next to the machine.

"Mordecai used to work here!" Rigby said with a big grin. "He used to let me in when the place was closed. I always ended up playing this baby for hours."

"Were you any good?" Skips asked.

"Only the best in town," Rigby lied, confidently.

"Wanna play a round…" Skips began, but was cut off when Rigby galloped away to the front counter. The yeti watched as Rigby conversed with the cashier, who looked confused, but eventually dropped his shoulders. Rigby motioned Skips to follow him.

They made their way behind the counter and out the back. The dumpster was still there, as were the train tracks.

"What exactly are you showing me, Rigby?" Skips asked, peering at the dumpster suspiciously.

"Only the coolest spot ever," Rigby said, lounging on the dirty steps that led to the dish room.

"It stinks back here," Skips said, looking skeptical.

"That's the smell of life, man," Rigby replied, hunching forward and reminiscing.

"Hey guys," said the cracking voice of the oily teen that had let them pass. "My boss is gonna be back in like two minutes, so could you two, like, split?"

"Yeah, yeah," Rigby said, irritated. "C'mon, Skips."

The raccoon started heading down the train tracks.

"Where are we going now?" Skips asked, trailing behind him.

"We used to walk home this way every night, and…"

"Rigby, okay, I think that's enough show and tell for today. Let's get back to the cart."

"Aw, come on, just a little further," Rigby replied, looking around and remembering his surroundings. "Wow, this stuff looked so much darker at night!"

"Seriously, Rigby, we gotta get movin'," Skips said, growing impatient.

Rigby stood tall for a second, ignoring Skips' pleas. He looked over at a streetlight and remembered what happened under it. He stopped smiling.

"Oh… yeah," Rigby said, looking up at the spot light that had once illuminated a bad argument he had.

"Rigby, c'mon," Skips said. When he caught up to the raccoon, he sensed his sadness.

"Alright, yeah. Let's go," Rigby said, turning around to cooperate.

After he dropped Mordecai off at the hospital, Benson went to a nearby Walls-to-Walls to pick out some new drinking glasses. As he walked through the aisles, his walkie-talkie crackled. He answered it.

"Yo Benson, it's Mordecai, the surgery's done," the voice on the other end said.

"Already?" Benson asked the plastic device.

"Yeah, I thought it was weird to. Also, minimal scarring," the speaker replied.

"That's good to hear. Listen, I have to finish up something, I'll be by in ten," Benson replied, withholding his anger. He was still upset, and a little hurt.

_"__So__I__gotta__be__the__guy__who__always__yells,__huh?__"_

He looked at a few pricier options. They looked very nice, but he didn't feel like the house deserved nicer glasses, considering they would probably be broken next week.

_"__I__try__to__be__friends__with__the__guy,__and__he__spits__it__right__back__at__me?__"_

He grabbed a ten pack of average drinking cups and put them in his cart. Somewhere in the distance, he heard someone moaning, but he was too distracted to investigate.

_"__I__bet__Skips__and__Rigby__are__getting__along__fine,__everyone__likes__Skips__…"_

He brought the box to the check out, and a lethargic employee asked him if he wanted to sign up for a 'Walls-to-Walls' card.

"That's alright, I have too many cards as it is," Benson chuckled, handing the man his plastic red debit card.

"I insist, sir," the man said. He looked horrified.

Benson raised one eyebrow and the man got closer to him.

"They're watching," he said, with a significant amount of stress behind his plea.

"Oh," Benson whispered. "Alright, I'll sign up for one, but I'm gonna cancel it later, is that okay?"

"Yes, it's fine, as long as you get one. My shift is almost over, and they require us to get a certain number of customers every day. If we don't…" he trailed off and started shivering.

"Relax, I've got you covered," Benson smirked.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," the employee cried as Benson filled out the sheet.

Mordecai waited on a bench outside the hospital. As he sat, he thought about Rigby. He couldn't tell himself that he didn't think his friend was attractive anymore, as Rigby had done such a good job of changing his mind. The sun was high above him, and though it was still summer, the day felt like fall. It was days like these that made him chilly in a way that was good. He wondered what Rigby was thinking, and he wondered what he meant to Rigby.

What had caught him about Rigby's actions that morning was how passionate they were. It wasn't that he thought Rigby was beautiful, it's that he thought his feelings were beautiful. Mordecai hadn't ever been loved like that, and it made him feel like puking, in a kind of good way.

His thoughts turned to Margaret, whose body and voice were to be celebrated, but who he knew little about. They had hung out a couple of times, and he had (on a few occasions) gotten over his fear of her rejection to enjoy her company. He just felt so much for her, but he never felt it back.

He looked at the ground and spied a discarded piece of glossy-orange paper. He reached down, picked it up and read it. It made him grin.

At that moment, Benson pulled up on the curb looking rather indifferent.

"Benson, you hungry?" Mordecai asked enthusiastically.

"I guess, why?" Benson asked.

"Bam!" Mordecai exclaimed, showing him the flyer he found on the ground. It was a "buy one, get one free" for a meal at a burger chain restaurant.

"You can have the free one," Mordecai said with a smile.

Benson chuckled at Mordecai's meager generosity, but understood what the blue jay meant.

"Yeah, alright, let's go get a burger," Benson replied, looking Mordecai in his eyes.

After they ate, they headed back to the park house. Rigby and Skips had already been at the house for a few hours, and the sun was setting. As they stepped in the door, they both looked pretty joyous. When Rigby saw Benson, his eyes lit up.

"Benson, I didn't know you drove a helicopter," the raccoon exclaimed.

"Helicopter?" Benson asked, utterly confused.

"Yeah, Skips told me about the giant rat invasion," Rigby added.

"Giant rat-spider invasion," Skips corrected.

"Wait," Mordecai said, "What?"

"Skips, can I have a word with you?" Benson hissed.

Skips chuckled and asked "Which one?"

"In private?" Benson asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Oh boy," Skips said sarcastically, following him, and leaving Mordecai and Rigby alone in the living room.

"Dude," Rigby said, "Skips is awesome! We went to the dump, and then he got me a meatball sub and told me all these awesome stories, it was sick!"

"So what is he your dad now?" Mordecai laughed. "Did he take you to the circus?"

"Pff, you're just jealous," Rigby snickered. "How was hanging out with Bean Teen, anyways? Did it suck?"

"No, I mean it was pretty cool actually," Mordecai replied, "Benson can be a nice guy, especially in situations like that."

"Shh, listen, they're fighting," Rigby interrupted.

In the kitchen, Benson was pissed off once again.

"You know that helicopter wasn't mine, Skips," Benson shouted.

"So I embellished the story a little, who cares? What's the harm?" Skips asked.

"If Maelard found out about me borrowing his helicopter I would get in so much trouble, and you know that!"

"It was almost twenty years ago," Skips said.

"First of all, you shouldn't be telling anyone about the rat-spiders. You know how dangerous just knowing of them can be," Benson said, clenching his fists.

Skips rolled his eyes. "Rigby has a lot to think about right now, I thought I'd give him a good story to keep his mind off it."

"And another thing, I can't believe you pretended we were strangers all these years," Benson added, turning around and crossing his arms.

"Listen, Benson, I'm sorry, I…" Skips stopped for a moment. "Go upstairs, you two," he yelled. He heard two pairs of panicking footsteps scramble away from the kitchen door and up the stairs.

"As I was saying," Skips continued, "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Well you did," Benson replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. "I had to pretend we never met."

"So did I," Skips said. "You know that it would have been weird, and plus you're just as guilty as I am."

"I… I guess I am, huh?" Benson asked, sighing and putting his chin on his hand.

"I'd take it back if I could, Benson, believe me. I'm sorry."

Upstairs, Mordecai and Rigby told each other about their days, respectively. Rigby bragged about the incident with the creature at the dump, and Mordecai told Rigby about the nurse that took out his stitches.

"Oh, they're out?" Rigby asked, scrambling over to Mordecai to inspect the gash.

"Yeah, and there isn't even gonna be much of a scar," Mordecai declared happily.

"Aw, I always thought you'd look cool with a scar," Rigby whined, accidentally hitting Mordecai in the face with his tail.

"Watch it," Mordecai said.

Rigby rested his head against Mordecai's back and let out a happy noise.

"I missed you today, man," Rigby said, closing his eyes.

"You too," Mordecai replied, reaching behind him and touching Rigby's back. He felt Rigby's warm breath permeate the feathers that covered his back.

"Oh, by the way," Rigby added, "Skips and I hit up that pizza place you used to work at."

"Oh yeah? Still got the same pinball game?" Mordecai asked, slowly grabbing Rigby's right hand.

"Nah, they got a new one. Looked lame," Rigby replied. He squeezed Mordecai's hand in response.

Mordecai laughed low and examined Rigby's hand with his thumb.

"You smell like meatballs," he said with a chuckle.

Rigby butted Mordecai's back with his forehead and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He smelled under his arms and grimaced. He had been at the dump and he needed a shower.

He turned on the water, half expecting Mordecai to join him as he did earlier that day, but the door never opened. He wasn't too disappointed. As much as he liked Mordecai, he also liked the short moments of privacy. He made a point of getting extra clean. He had never needed to clean up for someone before. He wanted to be as good as he could be for Mordecai. The hot water made its way between his hairs and cleaned out all the sweat and crud from his day.

When he returned, Mordecai was laying in his bed, looking at the wall.

"So I take it I'm sleeping in your bed tonight?" Rigby said, putting his hands on the mattress.

"Up to you, man," Mordecai said, sitting up to get a better look at Rigby, who was drying his back.

"I think I'm gonna sleep in your bed tonight," Rigby replied, climbing up on the mattress.

"Dude, you're not even dry yet," Mordecai laughed. He grabbed Rigby's towel and did his best to mop up all the extra moisture.

"There… now you're mostly dry at least," Mordecai said.

"Awesome," Rigby said, climbing under the covers.

"Are you sure you want to go to sleep? You never go to bed this early," Mordecai said, slipping under the blanket with him.

Rigby grabbed his hand and said, "I never had a reason to go to bed before."

Mordecai blushed and gave him a squeeze.

Rigby fell asleep quickly, and his body sank into a state of relaxed bliss against Mordecai's stomach. Mordecai stayed awake for about an hour, bringing his hand across Rigby's head and shoulder. He watched Rigby's chest rise and fall in the rhythm of sleep. Mordecai discovered that even when Rigby was asleep, he could make him purr by scratching certain areas, especially under the ears. Mordecai brought Rigby's head under his chin and fell asleep in a comfortable hug with his friend.

At the dump, the creature was scared. It wanted to know where Rigby was.

In her apartment, Margaret turned restlessly without any arms to hold her.

In his hovel, the words of High Five Ghost rattled around in Skips' head.

Two days.

* * *

><p>END OF WEEK ONE<p>

_Okay! Awesome, week one is done. I hope you've enjoyed the ride so far. We still have a long journey ahead of us._

_Music that helped me write this chapter:_

_Lullaby Set and Downstream (From the soundtrack of Braid)_

_Balikbayan - Ohbijou (this is a little known band that is really good, look them up, they need the support)_

_Thanks to all my friends on tinychat and all my supporters on tumblr, I love all of you! =D_

_Find me on tumblr (DatRegularBro)_

_Until next time..._


	11. Monday, August 8th

Only the stars illuminated the porch. Benson and Skips sat on similar chairs, conversing about the day before.

"Two days?" Benson asked, looking at Skips in disbelief.

"That's what he said," Skips replied. "Two days."

"But it's Fives, Skips. He's nice and all, but he's not exactly 'all there.'" Benson said with humorous indignation.

"You don't understand, Benson. The words came from his mouth, but he wasn't saying them. It was something else," Skips explained. "Something… inhuman."

"So you're telling me that Rigby is in danger."

"Yep."

"Well what are we gonna do about it?"

Skips was silent for a moment, but eventually spoke in desperation.

"I have no idea," Skips said, shaking his head. "I'd ask Fives to help us, but like you said, he's a bit of a space case."

"I didn't say that… I wasn't that unkind about saying it, anyways," Benson said in rebuttal.

Skips scoffed at his remark. "You? Telling me about kindness? You know your words are like razorblades, right?"

"Hey, so I have a bit of a temper," Benson grimaced. "I'm working on it, okay?"

"Oh yeah? So you didn't chew out Mordecai today?" Skips asked with a smirk.

"No!" Benson said in his own defense. "On the contrary, he actually got really pissed at me," the gumball machine explained.

"Oh yeah?" Skips asked. "What for?"

"Just for trying to be friendly," Benson said. "I asked him who he was seeing."

"Who he was seeing? What do you mean?"

"Oh c'mon Skips, you know the look," Benson replied. He gave his best impression of a doughy-eyed Mordecai for not more than a second.

"Alright, you got me there. I know the look," Skips laughed. "Actually, come to think of it, I got a similar vibe from Rigby. He got really uptight when I asked him about it, too."

"Hmm," Benson said with his nose. "You don't think…"

They humored the thought for a moment and then burst out laughing together.

"Nah," Skips said, breaking his laugh and wiping his nose. "I can't picture it."

"Wouldn't that be something though?" Benson asked. "Remember back in the day? That used to be our room. The whole situation is eerily similar, I mean we were both groundskeepers, we were both twenty-somethin'…"

"Benson, I was as far from a 'twenty-somethin' as one can be," Skips interrupted.

"Alright, alright, well you were acting like a 'twenty-somethin'," Benson laughed.

"Fair enough," Skips said. "They do kind of fill a void though. This park will always need a couple of jackasses."

"Jackasses? Now you're insulting all of us. How's that for unkind?" Benson asked sarcastically.

"Oh we were jackasses and you know it," Skips said with a smirk.

"Hooligans," Benson corrected with a raised eyebrow and finger.

"Whatever you called us," Skips chuckled. "They are what we were."

"I guess that's true," Benson added. "In any case, they've grown on me. Kind of."

"Yeah? I guess they've grown on me too," Skips said.

"Doesn't stop them from pissing me off on a daily basis, though," Benson rolled his eyes.

"You're the new Maellard," Skips laughed.

"Oh shut it," Benson replied with a smirk.

They shared another laugh, then a sigh, and then a stare. When their eyes met, a hint of the flame that they once shared hit both of them.

Benson broke the strange trance with another chuckle. "Let's not do this again," he laughed putting his hand on Skips' shoulder.

Skips smiled as Benson removed his arm.

"Well, other than that, how was your day with ol' Mordecai?" the yeti asked, changing the subject.

"Well I dropped him off at the hospital, and when I picked him up he treated me to a burger," Benson said. "I figure that was his way of saying sorry."

"That's good to hear, at least he sort of apologized."

"Yeah I guess. How was your day with Rigby?" Benson asked.

"We had fun. That kid can toss back a meatball sub like it's nothing," Skips chuckled.

"I bet you had fun. You're a lot more fun than me," Benson sighed.

"Don't say that," Skips said in a very rare tone of sincerity.

"What? It's the truth. You're more… likable I guess," Benson replied.

"Benson, you're a better man than I am. You're just prickly is all, you speak your mind," Skips replied.

"That's the excuse most assholes use," Benson chuckled, "but thanks anyways Skips. Listen, I gotta get going…"

"Back to your apartment?" Skips interrupted.

"Well I gotta sleep somewhere," Benson snickered.

"Benson, it's 2AM, just stay the night. I've got a futon," Skips replied.

Before Benson could complain, Skips added, "By the time you get home, you'll only have a couple hours."

"Alright, I'll stay over. Jeez, you're making me feel like a 'twenty-somethin' again. I haven't slept at a friend's house in years."

They got up off their seats and began the short trek back to Skips' hovel. The moon was high above them.

"You better not try anything funny," Benson remarked as Skips opened the door to his home.

"Scout's honor," Skips replied, letting the gumball machine enter his humble living space.

Elsewhere, High Five Ghost was sneaking around, looking for the smashed microwave from the day before. When he found it, he looked at the glistening metallic chunks thoughtfully. For a moment, he felt sorry for them. They were a disheveled mess, the shadows of a once functional device.

He could see a vague outline of its previous existence: a rectangular form with a window on the front. He picked up a piece of the microwave, and to his surprise, a spot in the vision started glowing. He placed the piece in the spot and it snapped into place, hovering where it was meant to be.

His eyes lit up. He grabbed another piece, and once again, a spot lit up. It glowed green.

He continued piecing the microwave back together until it was whole once again. The cracks remained, but it was in its original shape.

When the ghost looked away, the pieces fell into a heap once more. Fives forgot the entire experience by the time he looked back.

** MONDAY, AUGUST 8th**

Benson awoke to the familiar Musk of Skips' room. The yeti was still resting.

"Skips," the gumball machine whispered.

The yeti replied with a grumble and a few sleep words.

"Skips!" Benson said again, this time loudly.

"Wha- huh? I'm up, I'm up," Skips mumbled as he got to his feet.

"You didn't think you could sleep in did you… Skips for Christ's sake put some pants on!" Benson shouted, covering his eyes.

"Oh, woops," Skips chuckled, looking down at himself proudly.

"Jeez I forgot what that looked like," Benson complained, blushing and looking to his right as hard as he could.

"How could you forget?" Skips asked with a self-assured grin.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SKIPS," Benson shouted, accidentally peeking at the yeti's body again.

"Alright, alright," Skips said, slipping on his only pair of pants. "I don't get why you guys get to prance around naked and I don't," he added, fastening his worn leather belt.

"I…" Benson began, but then turned his thoughts inward. He could not think of a single reason as to why he, Mordecai and Rigby were all excused. In fact, he never even registered them or himself as "naked," but with Skips, it was just different.

"So what's the plan?" Skips asked, stretching out his abdomen and yawning happily.

Benson reached down next to the futon for his clipboard and held it in front of him.

Skips chuckled to himself.

"What?" Benson asked, sounding coy.

"You and your clipboard," Skips replied, walking out the front door.

Benson trailed after with his finger up, waiting for a moment to rebut.

"Hey, I like this clipboard," he stated as he stepped out into the warm sunlight.

"As if you need it, though," Skips said. "With your memory?"

"It makes me feel like I'm still the boss," Benson replied with a smile. "You know I don't get any damn respect from any of you guys."

"I think the boys are warming up to you," Skips said, tying the nearest garbage bag and lifting it out of its barrel. "They'll be taking orders from you in no time."

"Don't be so sure," Benson said, going over his list of chores for the day.

"Look, I think that despite their behavior, they like you," Skips replied, crossing his arms. "And what's up with you anyways? You're so worried about what people think these days."

"I dunno, Skips, maybe I just want people to like me, is that weird?" Benson asked, a bit indignantly.

"Well yeah," Skips added, "You never used to care that much."

"Well I do now," Benson sighed. "Maybe I'm just getting old, I dunno. I want to be more… kind, I guess."

"Benson, you're one of the nicest guys I know," Skips assured him. "You just have your own way of showing it."

"Again, with the excuses," Benson laughed. "Thanks though. It's Monday, I gotta make breakfast for everyone."

"Need some help?" Skips asked.

* * *

><p>Rigby awoke before Mordecai. His face was embedded in the warmth of his friend's chest. Mordecai's arms were wrapped gently around him, and the heat was comfortable on a deeply personal level. The blue jay snored quietly, and Rigby could hear the intimate sounds of his friend's lungs breathing in and out, happily. He nuzzled his friend lovingly and squeezed a bit tighter, which roused Mordecai from his peaceful slumber.<p>

"Mornin'," Mordecai grumbled happily. His voice suggested he had been sleeping for years. He itched the back of Rigby's head affectionately. "Aw, sick, dude you drooled on me."

Rigby wiped his mouth on his arm and snickered. Then, he clasped onto Mordecai's stomach once more, digging his face into his friend's feathers and giving a mighty sniff.

Mordecai laughed. He was feeling a bit overwhelmed with affection, but he combated the feeling with a noogie and a mild insult.

"Quit being a spaz," Mordecai chuckled.

"No," Rigby replied, nibbling Mordecai a little on the spot he had soiled with his drool.

Mordecai pushed Rigby off of him and swung around on top, pinning the raccoon to the mattress with his elbow.

Rigby squealed with delight as Mordecai looked down upon him menacingly. He brought his forehead against Rigby's. His expression said, "You're mine."

Rigby brought his tongue against the length Mordecai's beak, and Mordecai shot backwards, wiping at it with disgust and releasing his prisoner. Rigby cackled and rolled onto his side.

In an act of immature, thoughtless revenge, Mordecai grabbed Rigby's arm and licked it. Rigby stopped for a second, absorbing the image and the sensation. He came back with a high-powered laugh that enraged Mordecai.

The blue jay grabbed Rigby's arm once again and dragged him off the bed.

"What are you doing?" Rigby asked.

"Oh you'll see," Mordecai menaced, dragging him out into the hallway.

Rigby tensed up with glee and looked up at Mordecai, who looked incredibly irate and frisky.

The door to the bathroom slammed behind them and Mordecai brought Rigby into the tub. He turned on the water almost as hot as it would go and immediately brought his face to Rigby's. Rigby's lips met something soft, and for a moment his body was electrocuted. Then, it simply lost consciousness and melted into Mordecai's arms.

Rigby gave in as Mordecai pushed his ears back and bit down a little harder.

The blue jay ran his arm up Rigby's side and felt his friend shudder. Rigby had won yesterday's game, but today's belonged to Mordecai. He had no idea where it was coming from, but everything about Rigby's annoying behavior was setting his heart ablaze that morning.

Rigby didn't complain about how hot the water was, nor did he complain about the light pain that was creeping into his back, which was pinned against the base of the tub. All he could think about were Mordecai's fingers, which were wedged gently between his toes.

He let out a low sound but Mordecai shushed him softly. The blue jay's fiery libido simmered to a cool, confident stare, and as much as he wanted to avoid it, his eyes met Rigby's and he felt it. The passion was palpable, and it made his throat dry, despite all of the steam. He looked away, but Rigby reached up and guided his face back into place.

Rigby breathed out long and deep. He watched Mordecai's eyes dance around his gaze and he chuckled, placing a long kiss on the bridge of his beak.

Mordecai shot back a bit when he received the peck. It felt odd, sort of like a tickle, but Rigby had a tight grip on his beak. The raccoon rubbed noses with him and the bird made some light comfort sounds.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you're up for it?" Eileen asked as they pulled into their parking spot behind the coffee shop.<p>

"No, but I can't miss work twice in a row," Margaret replied, shutting off her engine and resting her head on the steering wheel.

"Aw, cupcake," Eileen cooed, rubbing her back. "Depression sucks, I know."

"And I have class and crap after work, god this sucks," Margaret complained.

"Hey, hey, cheer up, huh?" Eileen asked.

Margaret sighed and attempted to take Eileen's advice. She couldn't.

"Tell you what, I'll try to cover you as much as I can today. It shouldn't be too busy," Eileen added.

"You don't need to do that," Margaret replied, looking moderately flattered.

"But I'm gonna," Eileen smirked. "If you need me to, that is."

* * *

><p>Mordecai and Rigby got out of the shower smelling fresher than they should have.<p>

Rigby got on all fours and shook his fur to dispel some of the moisture, flicking specks of water all over Mordecai in the process.

Mordecai shoved him lightly and grabbed towels for each of them. He put one of the towels on Rigby's head and rubbed it against his scalp before releasing it.

Then, they heard a few knocks. They both shot a nervous glance at the door.

"Hello?" Pops said in his quirky voice. "I need to use the restroom, good sir."

"Pops, you have your own bathroom, remember?" Mordecai said, trying to stall.

"I'm all out of toilet parchment," Pops replied, "and besides, I like the community restroom better."

The old man opened the door, which neither of them had thought to lock, but Pops only saw Mordecai standing alone with a towel around his waist.

"Howdy, Pops!" Mordecai chuckled nervously. "I was just finishing up… drying and… stuff."

"Oh," Pops coughed nervously. The situation was strangely similar to the time that Mordecai saw him naked. "Jolly good… Out you go then?"

"Yeah, j… jolly good," Mordecai replied, shuffling chunkily towards the bathroom door.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Pops asked, noticing the blue jay's injured strut.

"Oh, you know," Mordecai replied. "uh… I'll just…"

The blue jay shuffled out of the bathroom as quickly as he could to avoid the older man's stare.

When he arrived in his room, he opened the towel and Rigby jumped out, gasping for air.

"You couldn't have waited?" Rigby shouted angrily, clutching his nose.

"I'm sorry man, I was nervous," Mordecai replied, shutting the door quietly. "Yikes, that was close."

"Close? I would rather get caught with you than go through that again," Rigby replied, once again cleaning out his ear with his towel.

Rigby sniffed the air and was reminded of one of his favorite foods.

"Dude, is it Monday?" he asked, twitching his nose at the scent. "Benson makes pancakes on Monday."

He scampered out into the hallway, leaving Mordecai behind to think about Rigby's primal reaction to the smell of food.

Mordecai was beginning to find that all of Rigby's quirks and glitches made him fun to be around, and even fun to think about. He felt the blush return to his cheeks. Even just the thought of him being so persuadable by food seemed purely endearing. He shook the look from his face and followed his bud downstairs.

Downstairs, just like the week before, there was a breakfast feast. Skips was happily gnashing some of the white fluffy cakes between his old teeth, and Pops was just coming down the stairs, overwhelmed with joy as he normally was. They took their seats quietly and happily. Their boss leaned back a little in his chair.

"Look at you two," Benson smirked as Rigby poured himself a glass of orange juice and Mordecai scooted his chair closer to the table. "You're up."

"Wow, Benson, these smell amazing!" Rigby announced, taking another huge whiff of the feast in front of him.

"And neither of you are being rude," Benson said, shifting his focus to Mordecai, who was patiently waiting for his turn at the orange juice. "Why the big change, guys?"

"Maybe they're growing up," Skips chimed in between bites. He smirked after a few moments of everyone's disbelief to signify that he was kidding.

"We're just… excited to get to work," Mordecai said, watching Rigby stuff his face.

"That's good, because there's tons of it to do today," Benson menaced, testing the pair.

Rigby pretty much ignored him and Mordecai got himself some pancakes.

"I said there's TONS of work to be done," Benson restated, waiting for a response.

"That's fine," Rigby said with his mouth full. "You're the boss. Whatever you need, man."

Benson's heart stopped momentarily and Skips laughed a bit. The gumball machine cleared his throat to avoid sounding overjoyed, and donned a more authoritative tone.

"Okay, well it's Monday, so you guys are on trash duty. You two better not let last week happen again," the gumball machine barked, trying to look tough while he served himself some pancakes. He waited for their complaints.

"What else?" Mordecai asked attentively.

"Uh, I, um…"

Benson looked to Skips, who was enjoying Benson's awe as much as he was enjoying his pancakes.

"I think that's it," Skips said, shoveling another rolled up whole cake into his mouth.

"Oh," the yeti added, removing the fork from his mouth and pointing it in the raccoon's direction. "Rigby needs to come to the dump with me again. Apparently the thing isn't eating much, it needs your help."

"Can Mordecai come?" Rigby asked, interrupting his bite.

"Sure why not," Skips said, taking a sip of his milk.

"What? No!" Mordecai said, looking at Rigby, then at Skips, then back at Rigby. "I hate that thing!"

"Dude, it's not even gonna hurt you this time. It only does what I tell it to," Rigby assured.

"I don't care," Mordecai said. "I don't want to be anywhere near that thing."

Rigby looked up at him with sad, puckered eyes, and Mordecai crossed his arms, trying not to let the gaze pierce his defenses. After their eyes were locked for a moment, Mordecai threw up his arms and gave a long "fine!" before taking another bite of his pancakes.

Between his third and fourth forkfuls of tasty breakfast, Mordecai noticed that Rigby was not sitting, but standing on his chair. He held his mouth in an attempt to keep the food in when he laughed. He swallowed and then addressed the raccoon with the subject of his seat.

"Dude, you're standing," Mordecai said, stabbing his food in preparation of taking another bite.

"Hm? I always stand here," Rigby said, between chugging his orange juice and swallowing un-chewed mouthfuls.

"Hm. Guess I never noticed," Mordecai said, turning his attention away from Rigby.

They finished their respective breakfasts one at a time, with Skips beating out Rigby by only a few seconds, and when they were all done, they went outside to start their daily grind. For the sake of safety, Benson decided to let Muscleman and High Five Ghost run the snack bar. He didn't want another race or a mishap that could potentially destroy the entire park.

Benson was nearly stunned by how cooperative the two were. They kept their joking to a minimum, and when they did goof off, they did it quietly, and it was a different kind of joking. It wasn't mean or competitive; it was just good, kind humor. They picked up the bags, tied the ends and stacked them in their golf cart, only exchanging light smiles between cans. They were quick, too, but they did not seem like they were rushing.

Before Benson could blink, they were finished, and awaiting further instructions. He didn't have any to give them. He hadn't taken into account them actually finishing their job that quickly. He had to think fast.

"We need light bulbs and more trash bags," Benson said, handing Mordecai his red plastic card.

"Okay," Mordecai said, grabbing the debit card. "C'mon Rigby, we gotta get light bulbs."

Rigby hopped in the passenger's seat and waited for Mordecai to start the engine.

"And get me a cup of coffee!" Benson yelled as the sped off. He saw Mordecai raise a thumb out the side of the cart in compliance.

The ride was bumpier than usual, but also warmer. It was actually an all around great temperature. Rigby made sure that their sides were touching the entire time, and Mordecai didn't mind in the least. They liked each other's textures. Rigby was puffed and a bit fluffy, and his friend was slim and sheen. They weren't close enough that people assumed anything. They were merely touching, as though it were an accident.

They pulled up in front of a small hardware store and took the time to have some harmless fun. They walked down the aisles, joking about nothing in particular and avoiding the light bulb section. Whenever they were sure no one was looking they shared their affection in discrete ways. Rigby was a fan of bumping Mordecai's side lightly with his head, and Mordecai was more prone to giving noogies and neck scratches.

When they got in line they were still busy discussing nothing. Mordecai's tone was low, warm, and still a bit sarcastic. Above all, it was affectionate and friendly. Rigby secretly liked Mordecai's voice the most, so just having it float around him was enough to make him happy. What the blue jay was saying made no difference.

After spending a healthy amount of time slacking off at the hardware store, they took a short walk towards the coffee shop to get some lunch and to get Benson his coffee. The familiar smells made both of them feel even more comfortable. They sat down at a booth near the window and a familiar red face appeared to take their orders.

When she was nearby, they kept their flirtation to a minimum. Margaret noticed right away that Mordecai was no longer nervous around her, and this somehow made her notice his qualities like she hadn't before. She could just tell that he cared about something, and she really wanted to know what it was. She could also tell that he wasn't really thinking about her, which only made her more intrigued.

She returned to their table with their food, and they received it gratefully. Rigby munched his roast beef sub happily while Mordecai crunched his salad. They didn't look at each other. They stared out at the street and exchanged a few words, but they mostly sat quietly. Rigby ate more politely than he usually would have.

Eileen got up the courage to say hi to them. Rigby gave her a small smile and a hello, at which the girl almost fell over. She didn't ask Rigby out, like she planned to, but just hearing him acknowledge her was enough to improve her day.

When Rigby finished his sub, he put his hands on his chin and watched his friend. He looked away quickly when Mordecai returned his gaze, but he had a hard time keeping his lips straight. Mordecai smirked and gave him a little kick under the table.

Margaret appeared again to give them the check, and Mordecai handed her the card wordlessly. She brought it to a back room and swiped it in the machine. She returned the card with the receipt wrapped around it, and Mordecai quietly thanked her while Rigby threw away the results of their lunch. They almost forgot the coffee that Benson had ordered them to retrieve. When they asked, she gave it to them free of charge.

Their sunny drive home was warm and lazy. The roast beef in Rigby's stomach made him sleepy, and he leaned against his friend to rest his eyes. Mordecai maintained a dim glow the entire ride, and Rigby only rose during the occasional bump in the road. At one time during his nap, Rigby let out a quiet belch before smacking his lips at the leftover taste in his mouth. Mordecai tried his hardest not to coo at the display.

Mordecai chuckled and nudged his friend to rouse him when the park appeared in front of them.

"Yo, time to get up," Mordecai said with his elbow.

They returned and parked in front of Benson, who was sitting on the steps, clutching his clipboard. He couldn't find any more jobs, but he gladly took the coffee and his card back from Mordecai.

"What's this?" he asked, unfolding the piece of paper.

"Rigby and I got lunch, sorry," Mordecai replied shyly. "I can pay you back if you want."

"Don't bother," Benson said. "You guys are done for the day," he added, scanning the receipt for any obscene expenses

"Done?" Rigby asked slack jawed. "Are we in trouble?"

Benson laughed. "No, there just isn't anything else to do. Skips has all the trash bags ready if you still wanna go to the dump."

Skips emerged from the house. "If they wanna? It's not really an option."

"Right," Benson said. "I guess you guys are going to the dump."

Mordecai still did not want to go, but at this point he did not want to separate from Rigby, even for a minute. He wondered if this is how Rigby felt, and if he had felt this way for a long time. It made him feel a tad guilty for not noticing sooner. It must have been difficult.

"You guys ready? We need to get there before it gets dark," Skips grumbled in their direction.

"Yeah, we're ready," Mordecai beamed, trying to cover his disdain for the idea.

They all sat down in Skips' souped up ride, and before they left Benson noticed something.

"Mordecai, did you take a look at this receipt?" Benson asked, leaning on the cart.

"No, why?" Mordecai asked.

"It's got a phone number on it," Benson replied, handing it to Mordecai with a little smile.

Mordecai looked at the slip, and sure enough, written in elegant cursive was Margaret's name and phone number.

"I knew there was someone," Benson chuckled, slapping the cart with his hand.

They sped off toward the dump, and Rigby eyed the slip of paper suspiciously. Mordecai just held it, confused and a little bit flattered.

Skips broke the silence.

"I'm proud of you two," he said, taking a sharp right turn. "You guys kicked ass today." He took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, then offered them each one.

Rigby almost took him up on the offer but digressed.

"We haven't done that in a long time, Skips," Mordecai said, rejecting the white stick.

"Suit yourself. It's probably for the best," Skips replied, letting out a long puff.

Mordecai clutched the slip of paper, horrified and excited at what it meant, and what it meant to Rigby. He caught Rigby burning the receipt with his eyes, and he quickly crumpled it in his palm to appease the raccoon. When Rigby wasn't looking, Mordecai sat on the crumpled piece of paper to hide it.

When they pulled in at the dump, the trash bags were still piled high. The monster was slowly grabbing bags and consuming them lazily. Skips took the trash bags from the park and stacked them on his shoulders. Then, he dumped them into the side of the trash pit. They tumbled down the edge like boulders.

Rigby was the first to notice the creature's size.

"Jeez, I thought you said it wasn't eating, it's like three times as big as it was yesterday," Rigby shouted as it opened its arms to welcome him.

"It's not the food that makes it grow, hell I don't think it even needs food," Skips said. "It's the moonlight."

Mordecai just shivered looking at it. He really hated the thing. He thought back to last week when its tentacle had entered his back. He watched Rigby force the thing to consume everything in sight. What was more troublesome than the sounds was Rigby's face. He looked like he still enjoyed it in some twisted way, despite the fact that the creature had taken something from him.

Rigby's eyes flashed evil for a second as he grabbed a particularly huge cluster of rotting trash bags and shoveled them into the creatures gaping jaw. Inside, the teeth that lined its mouth spun around quickly to shred the trash. Rigby snickered and his heart started pounding. He was panting from the exertion.

"Rigby are you feeling okay?" Skips said, putting his hand on Rigby's shoulder.

Rigby spotted a ditched van lying in the distance. He reached for it and crumpled it in his huge tentacle. He took the two halves gobbled them up. He could almost feel the metal being gnashed and crushed in the creature's enormous maw.

"Rigby," Skips said, growing worried. "Rigby, c'mon, that's enough."

Rigby ignored him and smashed some more things to Mordecai's disgust.

"I wonder if I can make him walk," Rigby said in a low growl. It responded to his remark with a sound similar to a loon call. "I could free him."

"Rigby, that's enough!" Skips said, grabbing the raccoon by his shoulders. Rigby's eyes shut immediately and the creature went limp.

"Rigby!" Mordecai shouted, picking his friend up.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Skips said, clutching his brow. "C'mon, we gotta get him away from it now!"

They put Rigby in the back seat and started the engine. The creature came back into consciousness and howled at the disconnection. Rigby's eyes shot open and he tried to jump out the side of the vehicle. Mordecai held him down with his elbow.

"What the heck is happening to him?" Mordecai called as Skips weaved in between cars.

"It's getting better at linking with his soul," Skips replied. "The farther we get from it, the weaker the link is."

Mordecai held Rigby down and tried to bring him back, but his eyes were different. They were clouded with hate. Rigby got his arm free and clawed at Mordecai's face. He sliced him below the eye and drew blood. It dripped onto the white plastic of the back seat, but Mordecai kept his grip hard.

"Do you like it?" Rigby said with a glare. He found the blood on the seat and teased it with his finger. Mordecai grabbed Rigby's claw and held it as hard as he could.

Skips was driving so quickly that it seemed like they were going to crash at any moment. The bumps in the road loosened Mordecai's grip and Rigby slashed at him again, this time drawing blood from his neck.

Mordecai could only return the hurt. He didn't know what else to do. He brought his fist against Rigby's stomach several times to weaken him. The raccoon clenched up at the blow and turned on his side. A tear left his eye and Mordecai wiped it away with his thumb.

"I'm sorry," Mordecai said with a quiver. He picked up the raccoon in his arms. He had stopped struggling. All Mordecai could do was watch Rigby's hateful eyes and wonder what they saw.

"No you aren't," the raccoon cried. "How long has he loved you?"

Mordecai didn't know how to respond.

"You think this is hard? Do you know what he went through?" The raccoon's voice was different.

"Rigby, I'm sorry, I didn't know!" Mordecai said, holding him closer.

"And now you're gonna throw it all away for that whore," the voice continued. "We saw how you looked at that piece of paper."

"Rigby please snap out of it! This isn't you," Mordecai said, shaking his friend a little.

"Well I'm going to protect him from you," Rigby said. "You won't hurt him any more." The voice was getting weaker.

"You leave him alone!" Mordecai shouted.

"He's already made his decision," Rigby replied with a snicker. "He just doesn't know it yet." The raccoon's eyes shut once again and his body went limp.

* * *

><p>When Rigby regained consciousness, he tried lifting his head off of the couch. He immediately clutched his ribs with pain. Pops was in front of Mordecai, cleaning the cut below his eye with a cotton swab. The blue jay winced at the alcohol's sting.<p>

Pops let out a quiet sound of fear when he noticed that Rigby was awake. Mordecai did the same.

"What's goin on dudes?" Rigby creaked painfully before having a coughing fit.

Pops ran to his side and pet his head softly, shushing him.

"Dude, weird!" Rigby shouted.

"Nonsense. You need a bit of TLC, Rigby," Pops said, more gravely than either of them was used to.

Mordecai got to his feet and stood next to Pops.

"Did I do that, Mordecai?" Rigby asked, motioning to the cut under his eye.

"Nah, someone else did," Mordecai chuckled.

"I'm so sorry dude," Rigby said, regaining some of the strength in his voice. "I really don't remember anything. I mean I do, but it's all weird, I couldn't control myself…"

"Don't worry dude," Mordecai said with a bleak smile. "You didn't mean it."

"I know… hey where's Skips?" Rigby asked, sitting up and cracking his neck.

"He's looking for Fives, he thinks he might be able to help you with this whole soul fiasco," Mordecai replied, trying to be comforting.

"Well that's good… but why Fives? Isn't he kind of…" Rigby finished his point by sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes.

Mordecai chuckled and pushed his friend's shoulder a bit.

"Ouch, dude I'm sore!" Rigby whined.

Mordecai laughed again. He didn't normally feel sorry when he hurt Rigby physically, and the raccoon usually exaggerated anyways.

"I think he needs some rest," Pops said, petting down the raccoon's ears once more. "He should sleep here, I've always had my concerns about that ridiculous trampoline anyways."

Mordecai nearly objected with an "Oh it's cool, he's been sleeping in my bed lately anyways," but he didn't feel like he wanted Pops to know.

Rigby lied there, hoping that Mordecai would mention it. He didn't really want to sleep on the sofa, but it seemed he had no choice.

Pops brought him a cup of tea, which he loaded with milk and honey to make sure the raccoon drank it. Rigby happily sipped it while Mordecai set up their console. He figured they could get a few rounds in before bed. In any case, Mordecai was planning on going easy on Rigby, so he picked the controller with the wonky d-pad.

Outside, in the forest, Skips was with High Five Ghost. They seemed somber.

"It's gonna happen tomorrow, huh?" Fives asked, looking at the moon, which was slowly being taken by a cloud.

"Yeah," Skips said. What "it" was, he couldn't say, but he trusted the voice that Fives had tapped into the day before.

"Oh, poor Rigby," Fives said, watching the flames in the distance.

"Fives, I still think we can use you," Skips said, trying to find what Fives was staring at. "I think we can stop this."

"Oh, I'm not helpful," Fives chuckled.

"But you would be, you have a lot of untapped potential, we just need to hone it," Skips said.

"Hone what?" Fives asked with a smile.

"Your untapped potential," Skips replied angrily.

"What about it?" Fives giggled.

"Fives! Pay attention!" Skips shouted.

"I'm sorry," Fives said, looking at the ground.

"Don't be sorry, just focus," Skips said. "These visions, tell me about them."

"Visions?" Fives asked.

"I see you looking at something over there. Tell me what it is," Skips said.

"It's… hmm…" Fives replied, squinting his eyes. The vision was blurry. "Lots of lines, they're tall."

"That's good, what else?" Skips asked, staring into the ghost's eyes.

"Fire… no, wait, the fire's gone now. So are the lines," Fives said, squinting his eyes even more.

Skips laughed. "Your eyes are closed, bud."

"Oh, crud, yeah sorry." Fives opened his eyes again and stared at the visions in the distance.

"Alright, let's try this again," Skips said.

"Okay. I see tall lines," Fives began.

"Like buildings?" Skips ask.

"Yeah, like buildings," Fives replied. "They're really really tall."

"Must be the distant future," Skips said, crossing his arms.

"Well they're actually only like a couple miles away," Fives replied.

Skips slapped his own face. "What else do you see?"

"Well the fire is actually gone now, there's little lights floating around above the buildings," Fives said, looking up.

"Flying cars maybe?" Skips asked hopefully.

"Yeah, I think so," Fives said, squinting a little more.

"Awesome. I can't wait," Skips said, clutching his fist.

"Oh, yep. The meteor," Fives said, looking up even higher. "That's where the fire comes from."

"Meteor?" Skips asked in a panic.

"Yeah, I've seen this part a million times. All the sticks fall over and the lights go out, then there's just fire."

"So the visions are always the same?" Skips asked. His chest was pounding.

"Not always. It changes based on where I am, I think. Back home it's a different city, and this spot is the only one I can see the meteor from. The fire's always the same, though. I guess it lands near the park," Fives said with a chuckle.

Skips grimaced. He remembered the one big drawback of being immortal.

Back inside, Rigby was starting to feel the strong, sleepy effects of the tea. He was wrapped in a light blue blanket that Pops had given him, and he was leaning lightly against his friend. He yawned and his body stretched out and twitched comfortably.

Mordecai got up to shut off the console.

Rigby collapsed into Mordecai's warm couch-print, no longer being supported by his body. Pops had already gone to bed, and Mordecai was about to do the same.

Mordecai made it half way up the stairs and looked at his sleeping friend on the couch. As usual, the blanket rose and fell with his breath. He watched for a second, then made his way to the bedroom. Suddenly, his bed looked awfully big.

He laid down in it, trying to get comfortable, but could not. It felt cold. He grabbed one of his extra pillows and tried holding it, but it didn't help.

Rigby awoke to arms sliding under his knees and neck. They were warm, and they picked him up off the couch. He watched the staircase railing go by through squinted eyes. He was pretending to sleep.

In no time, he was back in Mordecai's bed, wrapped in his arms. They both fell sound asleep almost immediately.


	12. Tuesday, August 9th Pt 1

Mordecai dreamt of the train yard he used to work near. A train was leaving the station, and for some strange reason he felt like he needed to make sure it didn't. It sped off and he followed it. It was dark, and no matter how close he got to the thing, he couldn't quite grasp it. In the back window was a silhouette, black against an orange glow. He couldn't make out whom, but he knew that whoever it was didn't want to be on the train.

They reached a tunnel, and the train continued on its way into the black void even though the track ended. Mordecai tumbled into the endless dark pit and watched the train curve up towards the stars.

He woke up and clutched his friend lightly.

Rigby responded to the squeeze with a shy smirk.

"What's up?" the raccoon asked, turning towards Mordecai.

"Bad dream," Mordecai said, looking to the side. There was a half-a-drop in his eye.

"Must've been pretty bad," Rigby replied, wiping the drop with his thumb. He turned over again so Mordecai wouldn't see him sampling the taste of the tear. His strange impulse rewarded him with a nice salty taste.

"Yeah… I mean… I dunno, it was nothing. I barely remember what happened," Mordecai sighed, looking at the ceiling.

"Well what do you remember?" Rigby asked.

"There was a train that I couldn't catch or something," Mordecai replied.

"Well that's dumb. It's not like we're going anywhere," Rigby said, picking his ear.

Pops passed by their doorway and chuckled heartily at them sleeping in the same bed. He didn't understand the context.

"So… you didn't keep her number, right?" Rigby asked, teasing Mordecai's arm with his thumb.

"Uh, no, no I didn't," Mordecai lied.

Rigby smiled and got out from under the covers.

Mordecai suddenly felt a wave of shame come over him.

Not far away, Skips was sitting on his bed. He was sad. He wasn't sure what was going to happen to Rigby, but he didn't think he could stop it. He didn't have the heart to tell anyone.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 9th

Margaret sighed at her own reflection. She wanted Mordecai to call her, and possibly save her from being single. She applied some mascara to her eyes and gave up halfway through. She didn't see a point. Why try to look human? She had always tried to the best of her ability to look like the light skinned girls on the television, but nothing could stop her from looking like a bird. She hated her feathers and her beak. She washed the eye that she had finished and put away her makeup, perhaps forever.

She got in her car and started it. The radio played a tune that reminded her of her ex, and she shut it off immediately.

* * *

><p>"I don't think I want to do this anymore," Mordecai said.<p>

Rigby ignored him and continued gripping his feathers.

"Rigby, stop," Mordecai said, pushing his friend away.

"Stop? Why?" Rigby asked, wiping some of the drool from his lips.

"It's just… I… I can't do this," Mordecai replied, covering his face.

"What?" Rigby complained.

"It's too weird, okay? It's too goddamn weird," Mordecai said, turning off the water.

"But…"

"Rigby I don't want to do this anymore. I gave it a shot, okay?"

"But," Rigby said, with a bit of hurt in his voice. He touched Mordecai's shoulder.

"But nothing, and don't touch me," Mordecai fired back.

"I thought," Rigby added with a quiver in his throat.

"You thought wrong," Mordecai said, turning around. His expression said it all, and only fed Rigby's disappointment.

"You can't…" Rigby said. "You can't do this to me."

"I just want a fucking girlfriend like a normal person, okay?" replied Mordecai, getting out of the tub to dry himself off. He felt a heavy thump against the back of his head and fell. He looked up. Rigby's eyes were dark. He felt another impact against his face before blacking out.

He awoke to Pops' friendly face. The older gentleman was swabbing up the trace amounts of blood from the re-opened wound under his eye.

Mordecai sat up so quickly that Pops was taken aback. "Where's Rigby?" he asked, clenching his fists.

"I'm not sure," Pops replied, looking rather sad. "Did he do this to you?"

"Damn right he did, he sucker punched me when I wasn't looking and then kicked me in the head!"

"Oh dear, that doesn't sound like something Rigby would do," Pops said, dropping the soiled cotton balls in the waste bin.

Skips appeared in the doorway, huffing and frightened. "We have a problem."

* * *

><p>Rigby held his foot against the pedal with only one wish. He wanted to escape, and he knew just the place.<p>

The creature at the dump was giddy. It sensed his eagerness to join him and it writhed in its pleasure. Its tentacles slid together in anticipation.

* * *

><p>Mordecai appeared outside with Skips and Pops.<p>

"He took the cart," Skips said, opening the garage door. "The fast one. Seemed upset."

Benson appeared from the kitchen, unaware of the situation.

"Where's Rigby?" he asked, eying the three. "Mordecai, why are you bleeding?"

"Rigby hit me and ran off with one of the carts," Mordecai replied, a little annoyed.

"Mordecai, this is serious," Skips said, pushing the less desirable cart out of the garage. "Pops, go find Fives."

The older man made his way down the path hastily.

"He's just having another one of his fits," Mordecai scoffed.

Skips looked at him angrily. "If we don't do something he's gonna die."

"Wait, what?" Mordecai asked, suddenly opening his eyes wider.

"This is when it happens, isn't it?" a ghostly voice asked from behind a bush.

"Fives!" Skips said. "C'mon, we have to go get him."

"No seriously, what the hell is going on?" Mordecai asked, suddenly feeling it in his chest.

"If you guys are coming, come, but we have to go now," Skips said, starting the cart.

Benson sat down in the passenger seat and the cart started moving.

Mordecai caught up to the cart after a few feet of travel and hopped in the back.

* * *

><p>"There he is," the creature sighed, seeing Rigby's cart emerge in the parking lot.<p>

The raccoon jumped out of drivers seat and scrambled on all fours to the side of the deep pit.

* * *

><p>Skips floored it to no avail. The slower cart simply wouldn't reach a good speed. The yeti was sweating.<p>

High Five Ghost sighed and worried.

Benson and Mordecai didn't ask questions. They trusted what Skips said, though they didn't want to know what he meant.

* * *

><p>Rigby stamped his feet to rouse the creature, and it emerge out of the pit, rolling over itself like a ball of snakes. The raccoon's face was a mix of sadness and anger.<p>

The tentacles slowly moved towards him and petted his ears down.

He hit them away.

"I want you to destroy them," Rigby said.

"Destroy them?" the creature asked through its appendage. It was a voice that only Rigby could hear.

"I want you to kill them all," Rigby shouted. His eyes grew even darker.

"But why?" the creature asked, petting Rigby's ears again. Its voice was low and calm.

"Because!" Rigby screamed. "You do what I say, that's how this works!"

"Rigby," the creature sighed. "I warned you of this."

"Warned me of what?" Rigby asked.

"When we spoke a few days ago," the creature replied.

"Spoke? We never spoke, what are you talking about?" Rigby said.

"He hurt you again, didn't he?" the creature asked, lightly caressing the raccoon's cheek.

"He," the raccoon's lip quivered. "I thought… I thought he loved me…"

"Oh poor thing," the creature mumbled, carefully lifting Rigby off of his feet. Rigby sobbed softly as it took him. "I knew this would happen. I shouldn't have let you wake up."

Rigby cried quietly as the careful monster hugged him.

"He won't hurt you again," the monster whispered.

Rigby felt himself going down.

* * *

><p>Skips and Fives jumped out of the cart as soon as they arrived at the dump. There was a small crowd surrounding the area.<p>

Mordecai and Benson followed reluctantly, afraid of what they were going to see. Mordecai could hear his last words with Rigby rolling around in his head.

Skips tried to push through the dense mass of onlookers who were all mumbling incoherently. They passed by like large hunks of meat that scowled as he pushed them over. The yeti huffed and almost cried, he pushed so hard. His friends stayed close to his back so the closing crowd wouldn't take them.

When they arrived at the pit, they saw something worse than they could have imagined…

* * *

><p>Eileen looked out the window of the coffee shop and shivered. She suddenly felt cold, and a little afraid.<p>

"What's wrong?" Margaret asked. The shop was deserted.

"It's just… I don't know," Eileen replied, clutching her forehead. "I can't help but feel like something bad just happened."

Margaret patted her on the head. "I don't know what you mean, but I'm sure it's fine."

"No, I…" Eileen started. Her forehead wrinkled a bit and she breathed out heavy. "Oh no…"

"Eileen, what are you talking about?" Margaret asked, holding her friend's shoulder.

"Something's wrong, I don't know what, but something is wrong," Eileen frowned, looking up at Margaret.

* * *

><p>Rigby saw flashes of torches in the dark.<p>

Leathery tentacles carried him through a gauntlet of horrors.

There were ugly faces and strange apparitions. They disappeared as quickly as they came, replaced by more blackness.

He saw strange, old stone buildings. They had ornate carvings in their bevels, and they were occupied by odd, tall humanoids clutching candles and baskets. The things in their baskets writhed hopelessly. The humanoids looked at him with huge wet eyes as he passed.

He saw monstrous spiders spinning webs in the large cracks that decorated the obsidian walls, and he saw an enormous centipede tear into one of the giant spiders with its pincers. The bug let out a howl like a loon before disappearing into the darkness.

There was a small tribe of people who were made of mushrooms harvesting the spider's eggs. They scurried away into small caves, hiding from the beast that carried him.

They came to a clearing. There were stalactites as tall as buildings and the distant silhouettes of hulking, crawling monstrosities. The gaping distance between them glowed orange.

Rigby's lethargy saved him from the endless terror that he was feeling in the back of his eyes.

* * *

><p>Skips dropped to his knees. His face drooped and his eyes gaped at the sight.<p>

The pit was completely empty, a crater. In its center was a smoking sinkhole.

"Where the hell are they?" Mordecai asked in a panic.

"Gone," Skips said, choking on the word.

Fives shook his head slowly and Benson gawked at the empty pit.

"Gone?" the gumball machine asked.

"Gone," Skips replied. His eyes shut and his head dropped forward.

"What do you mean gone?" Benson asked angrily.

Skips pointed to the hole in the ground wordlessly.

"I got that," Benson barked. "You mean we're not going in after him?"

Skips looked up at the gumball machine, surprised.

"I don't care how deep that pit is, I'm going after him," Benson said. He had a face of anger and courage. "He's my responsibility."

Mordecai also took notice of Benson's strange bravery.

"What?" the gumball screamed in desperation. "You think you can just let him go?"

"Benson," Mordecai said, thinking about disagreeing with him. "I mean… No, Benson's right. This is my fault, I'm going with him."

"Well?" the gumball machine asked the yeti and the ghost.

Skips felt a thick inspiration wash over him. He nodded stoically and got to his feet.

Fives just stared into the pit, void of any opinion. He knew he was going to go with them wherever they decided to go.

Benson took a walky-talky from his side and hit the button on its side.

"Pops! Come in Pops!" he said into the receiving end.

"Benson? Is that you Benson? I can't find the ghost…"

"That's not important right now. We're probably going to be gone for a while; I need you to find replacements for us, can you do that for me?"

Mordecai winced at the word "replacements."

"Replacements?" Pops crackled. "What do you mean?"

"I need you to go to the phone book and start finding people to help run the park while we're gone," Benson replied.

"I mean I'll do it, but I don't really understand…"

"We don't have time for this! Pops, I need you to do this for me. We might not be back for a long time."

"Okay I will," Pops said, low and serious.

Benson hung up on the older gent and looked at his employees with an angry brow. They looked appropriately scared.

"We're planning on making it back out, right?" Mordecai asked quietly.

Benson smirked. "Not without Rigby. Get in the cart."

Benson started the vehicle and drove it to the edge of the pit. He tipped it forward. It teetered precariously, and the mouth of the crater looked up at them, cold an uncaring.

"Are you guys ready?" Benson asked, refusing to let his own doubts enter his mind. He didn't believe a word he was saying.

Skips breathed out long, looking down the cliff face. It was an enormous and steep decline. He cleared his throat of fear and gave a short "yep."

"What about you," Benson asked, turning to Mordecai. A bit of the gumball machine's fear became known in his expression.

Mordecai gulped reluctantly and nodded.

"Okay," Benson said, now sounding entirely doubtful. "Here… we… go!"

The cart tilted over the edge of the pit and began its comet-like ascent down the side. It picked up speed immediately, and all its inhabitants felt their stomachs and hearts turning inside out.

Benson struggled to keep the steering wheel straight, and his arms twitched with the passing of the terrain under their vehicle.

Mordecai screamed at the top of his lungs, clutching the headrest of the passenger seat, and then the shoulders of its white furry passenger. He held to Skips' neck for his life.

High Five Ghost just watched the pit approach. It seemed to be gaining on them.

Soon, the hole swallowed their cart and they were plunged into darkness.

* * *

><p><em>until next time...<em>


	13. Tuesday, August 9th Pt 2

_Thunk._

Mordecai breathed out heavy. His arms were still wrapped around the neck of the yeti he so trusted.

They were surrounded in complete blackness. It was an old kind of darkness, the kind that hadn't seen the sun for quite some time. It was musty.

"We're safe," Skips whispered. "You can let go of my neck."

Mordecai tore his arms away in embarrassment while Benson tried to start up the cart. It had shut off as soon as they landed.

With every key turn, Benson grew more frustrated. The engine didn't so much as sputter. He looked down in disappointment. Had the cart survived, they could have driven to Rigby, scooped him up and shot right back home. He could hear a distant wind coming from some far away place.

They heard Skips shift his weight and exit the vehicle. The cart did a sort of bounce when his body left the seat. He patted around in the front until he found the hood. He pried the hood open and felt around for the battery while everyone else listened silently.

He tore the battery out, along with the headlights, and then he hardwired one of the lights to the battery, creating a crude lamp.

Immediately, the other three were blinded. They held their limbs in front of their faces to avoid the brightness.

Skips pointed the lamp at the wall and illuminated its obsidian sheen. In the smooth black rock, they saw many cracks. He traced the wall for any sign of an exit, but before he could find one he saw an inscription. It was a large, simple eye carving with small triangles shooting from its edge. It was looking down. Below it, there were carvings of oddly proportioned people. They were far too tall and their heads were very tiny. They were offering some kind of sacrifice to the giant eye; a smaller humanoid. The image gave him chills.

"It's inhabited," High Five Ghost said, startling the others.

They looked at his worry for a moment, then back at the unsettling carving. A heavy wind came through the exit like a loud scream and eliminated any warmth they felt from the surface.

Skips shined his light in the direction of the chilling breeze.

"Well I guess we should go that way," the yeti said reluctantly.

He started walking toward the source of the wind sounds. As he got closer, he saw an enormous archway. It was more intricate than the crude image of the eye. It was civilized, but it was still black. It looked evil. The others sensed it to.

When they passed through the archway, the ground disappeared. In its place was a bottomless drop that extended in front of them forever. The only path they could see was a thin cliff face directly on their left.

"Jesus, what is this place?" Benson asked, almost in Skips' direction.

"I haven't got a clue," Skips said, still searching around with his light. The others were invisible to him.

Benson's eyes opened with shock. Skips didn't know where they were, which meant they were in serious danger.

The wind smacked at them again. They clung to the cliff face to avoid being pulled into the depths. Their hearts beat fast in unison as they shimmied across the thin path that threatened to crumble beneath their feet.

* * *

><p>"Yes father… well yes… but… no, bad show…"<p>

Pops held the red phone of the kitchen to his ear and tried to fend off his irate father.

"I know, papa, but Rigby was in trouble… well no we couldn't have let him die… I know he's replaceable, that doesn't mean he should just perish…"

He tapped his foot impatiently. He was incapable of raising his voice at his father, even in the controlled environment of a telephone conversation.

"Look, father, the bottom line is we need some temporary help at the park for a couple of days. I've already called Rigby's older brother… Yes the accountant… well I wouldn't say he's 'better' than Rigby, they're different people…"

Pops thought for a moment of slamming the phone on the receiver. He should have known better than to expect his father's help at this time.

"Look, I'll ask Muscleman if he knows anyone," Pops said before giving his goodbyes and hanging up the phone. He stamped his feet on the ground in frustration, cursing his father's name.

"Of all the no good, immoral, rotten, corrupt and vile…"

A very groggy looking Muscleman interrupted his rant.

"What's happening Pops," the green man droned from the kitchen door. "Where is everyone?"

Pops sighed and relieved his anger momentarily. "They've gone to rescue Rigby, I assume."

"Aw, what?" Muscleman protested. "Every time!" He kicked the ground. "Why do they always get to go on sweet adventures?"

"Well I wasn't invited either," Pops sighed. "It's just you and I."

"Wait… Fives too?" the green man said with a quiver in his lower lip.

Pops nodded gravely.

Muscleman hid his heartbreak with anger. "Well who the hell is gonna pick up slack around the park?"

"I've been working on it, my good man. Don is already on his way over… that leaves four open spots," Pops said, sitting at the kitchen table.

"Pff… more like two," the green man pouted. "Rigby and Fives are like a quarter of a worker at best."

"Now Muscleman, I know you're upset about your friend's departure, but this is no time to be trite," Pops lectured.

Muscleman shooed his hand in Pops' general direction.

"I'm serious," Pops shouted.

Muscleman instinctively stood up a bit straighter at the authoritative tone.

"From the way Benson put it, they might be in a great deal of danger. Their situation is not to be envied. It is our duty as the only two left to make sure this park operates accordingly."

"Whatever you say boss," Muscleman said subserviently.

Pops cleared his throat, a bit guilty and embarrassed at his tone.

"Right then. So we have Don, who else do you know who could help out?" the older gent asked, flicking his finger against his chin.

"There is one," Muscleman said with a wide grin.

* * *

><p>After a few minutes of painfully frightful shuffling, they arrived at a clearing, panting.<p>

Skips shined his light around the darkness to find the details in his surroundings. He found darker carvings then before. They were more descript, and more ghastly. One tall humanoid wearing some kind of ceremonial helmet held a man who appeared to have a toadstool for a head. He was offering the mushroom man to the great eye above him, and looming tentacles were tangled above them, waiting to grab their prize.

Benson shuddered at the face of the man. His glass-dome head reflected the image in the lamplight. The face was bleak. It had one large eye that sat above a smaller eye, and there was no apparent mouth.

Skips shined his light back at his three companions, making sure none of them had disappeared. Mordecai covered his eyes. They were soaked. He muffled his soft sniffling with one of his arms.

Benson walked over to the sobbing blue jay and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Skips looked around some more with his lamp and found a pit where a fire used to be. He clasped his hands and mumbled something into them. He opened his palms and a lime green fire popped up in the center of the pit.

Fives hovered to Skips' side and peered at the fire. It was a mild comfort in their otherwise bleak circumstances.

"Are magic fires always green?" Fives asked.

"Mine are," Skips said. "It's my favorite color."

"Interesting," the ghost responded, parking himself atop the flames.

Skips chuckled. "I guess you can't really get burned, can you?"

"I guess not," the ghost chuckled back.

Skips gave a sorrowful noise as he disconnected his lamp from the battery.

"What's wrong?" the ghost inquired.

"This battery's not gonna last forever," Skips said.

"Well that's not good," Fives said, warming his underside. "Can't you just make more of these?" he asked, referring to the fire.

"No," Skips said. "Crazy thing about magic. You don't create it; you take it from somewhere else. You can only take so much before it asks that you give something back."

"I don't follow," Fives replied, cocking his head.

"Neither do I, but it's something I've learned the hard way," Skips said, looking into his fire.

Over on the cliffs edge, Mordecai was dangling his feet off its ledge. He watched his green tears dematerialize into the abyss. He felt another presence sit down next to him.

"You miss him, huh?" Benson asked, making contact with the sad bird.

"Yeah," Mordecai sniffed, wiping his nose.

Benson touched his shoulder.

"I can imagine. You guys are attached at the hip," The gumball machine said.

"I… I don't know what I'll do if we don't find him,," Mordecai replied, hugging his boss.

Benson nearly recoiled at the unexpected hug.

"You two are more than just friends, aren't you?" Benson asked. His tone was warm and sympathetic.

Mordecai was silent. He felt two affectionate pats on his back. He tried to find the words he wanted to say.

"I don't want to like him that way," Mordecai crooned. "I mean I do, it's just too weird. I don't think I'm gay or anything…"

They held the hug longer than he planned. The hard metal man was warmer than Mordecai expected.

Benson just watched the darkness behind Mordecai.

"And then Margaret gave me her number and I thought it might be a way out. I know, selfish me, looking for a way out," Mordecai sputtered. "I just always thought we'd be perfect, you know? It'd be like a picture of us, me and her…"

"Look, Mordecai, you don't have to be ashamed," Benson said.

Mordecai let go of his boss and looked back down at his feet.

"I told him I didn't want him anymore," Mordecai sniffed.

"This morning?"

"Yeah," Mordecai said. "I told him not to touch me."

"Ouch," Benson said, remembering similar conversations he had had.

"I'm such a fuck," Mordecai said.

"You're not a fuck," Benson said.

"I am a fuck," Mordecai replied, punishing him self by punching the cold cliff.

"Look, it's complicated, I understand," Benson said, putting his arm on Mordecai. "I've sat where you're sitting right now."

"You have?" the blue jay sniffed.

"Skips and I…"

"YOU AND SKIPS?" Mordecai whispered aloud.

Benson shushed Mordecai quietly.

"Yes, me and Skips. It was a while ago," Benson said.

Mordecai was quiet again.

"Look," Benson added. "Love can be weird. It sounds to me like you love your friend too much to throw away what you guys have."

Benson waited for his words to sink in.

"And sure, you and Margaret would make a great picture," he continued, "but what does that mean for you and Rigby?"

Mordecai looked at his feet again. "Even if we do find him, I don't know what I'm gonna say to him."

"Don't sweat it. We'll find him," Benson said. "And you'll find your words. Bros before hoes, as they say." He chuckled a bit. Mordecai did not.

"C'mon," Benson added. "Skips made a fire. Lets go warm up."

They stood up and made their way over to the fire, where Skips was feeling somewhat delighted.

Fives was holding a piece of the flame in his hand above his head. It was orange.

"Orange, huh?" Skips said with a smirk.

"It's my favorite color," Fives winked, tossing the fireball up and catching it.

"I could almost kiss you," Skips said, bumping the phantom with his shoulder. "That solves our light problem, and just in time. Oh, hey Benson, look what this one just learned."

Benson clapped his hands slowly and said "bravo" as the ghost proudly paraded his new talent.

"Yeah I just sort of grabbed a piece from the middle," Fives said with a grin.

"That's a magic coal," Skips said. "Not everyone can hold those. This is a big step, Fives."

Fives beamed proudly, teasing the ember and trying to make it shine brighter.

"It'll never go out, neither. Not unless you let it," the yeti added. His white fur reflected both the green of his original flame and the orange of the phantom's new ember.

"We gotta move," Mordecai said, cleaning the rest of his face with his arm.

Skips nodded. "Fives, can you keep that flame going for a while?"

"As long as I don't drop it," the ghost replied with a grin.

"There may be hope for you then," Skips said, patting the ghost on his back. "There's another archway over here. Let's get a move on."

* * *

><p>Don clutched a tissue close to his nose and sobbed loudly at the kitchen table.<p>

"My big brother, taken by a creature! Oh who would have thought I'd see this day?" he cried to the heavens.

"There, there," Pops said, patting the big raccoon on the back.

"My only brother," Don screamed, blowing his nose.

"Calm down, calm down," Pops cooed. "He'll be alright, I'm sure of it. It's not the first time he's been in a situation like this."

"This isn't the first time?" Don shouted. "How many times has my brother almost DIED working here?"

Pops started counting on his fingers, but was stopped by Don's soft grip closing his hands.

"You promise he's gonna be alright?" Don asked, eyes glistening.

"I promise," Pops replied.

"I… I'm sorry about all this," Don said, motioning to the small mountain of crumpled tissues in front of him.

"No, it's quite alright, someone has to cry for him," Pops said, pouring some tea.

"How am I going to pick up the slack?" Don said, throwing away an armful of the soiled paper. "I don't think I can be half the worker Rigby is."

"I think you'll manage," Pops said, concealing his humor.

"Okay. I'm chill now. I'm cool. Just tell me what you need me to do," Don said between sniffs, scooping up more of the tissues.

"The gutters need to be cleaned, I think," Pops said, sipping his hot beverage. "The dishes need to be cleaned as well. There's laundry, the boys room could use a quick febreezing, and I think it's been a week since I washed the windows."

"That's it?" Don asked. "Those sound more like chores…"

"Well I guess they are sort of like chores," Pops said with a smile.

"So you guys pay Mordecai and Rigby to clean the house that they live in, rent free?"

Pops stopped talking.

"Oh, I get it, is today their 'day off'?" Don asked, polishing off the last dish in the sink. "Sorry, I just haven't had a job like this before,"

Pops gasped at Don's quickness to follow instructions. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Yes, and the trash must be taken outside." Pops opened his eyes again and saw that the raccoon had already done this, and was now in an apron and hairnet, scrubbing the floors.

"Don't you worry boss," Don said with a smile. "I'll have this place cleaned up in no time! Is this how Rigby would scrub?"

Pops staggered away from the frighteningly efficient sibling. He made his way outside and hit the button on the side of his walky-talky.

"Muscleman, come in Muscleman," Pops shouted into the receiver.

"That's a ten-four, Big Poppa," Muscleman crackled through the other end.

"Big Poppa?" Pops asked.

"Nicknames, bro. If you're gonna be the boss you gotta use 'em, that's what Benson always did," the green man responded. He could barely be heard over the loud music he was listening to. "I go by Green Dog."

"Oh, I see… Green Dog," Pops said reluctantly. "Have you picked up your replacement for High Five Ghost?"

"You know I have!" Muscleman shouted.

"Oh Mitch," Pops heard faintly in the background. "You're so masculine!"

"Oh goodness," Pops said quietly.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and jumped.

"All done," Don said with a smile.

"The whole house?" Pops said, scrunching his own face.

"Well, most of it. I didn't get to the chimney, but we need certain chemicals for that," Don said. He then proceeded to list the chemicals on his hands before Pops interrupted him.

"That's quite alright… I haven't opened the park yet. Tell you what, how about you run the snack bar? I'll open the gates."

"Sure thing Mr. Pops!" Don said enthusiastically, scampering over to the snack bar on all fours. His apron flew off in the wind as he scrambled in the sunshine.

* * *

><p>"Hm," Benson said, watching the oddly enthusiastic man run circles around his chores.<p>

"Well at least we can see now," Benson said, tiptoeing behind the spirit who held the orange ember above his head.

The black shiny rocks around them dispersed the fiery glow across their surface.

"Great, I'm hungry," Mordecai complained as they rounded another chilly corner. "And Jesus Christ this place is cold."

"Pants," Skips said, eying Benson and Mordecai with a vengeful stare. "They're warm and you can put stuff in 'em." He pointed to his front right pocket, which held Benson's wallet and walky-talky.

"Yeah… sorry about that," Benson said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"On that note," Fives said, peering into the darkness in front of him, "what are you guys going to eat?"

"Let's avoid that question," Skips said.

"But…"

"Avoid it," the yeti barked, startling everyone. "We don't need any more despair. Just look at this place."

"Alright," Fives said.

They ventured forward until the cliff became a crudely carved staircase whose steps were too tall for one to descend comfortably.

The phantom hovered a few feet above the sharp edges of the staircase to make sure the steps stayed lit. He didn't want his friends falling.

Mordecai went first and immediately scraped his shin. Not only were the steps too tall, they were crooked and slippery.

Skips reached down and caught him by the arm before he fell any further. "You okay bud?"

"Yeah, I think so," Mordecai said, regaining his balance. "Fucking shins, though, ouch."

"Alright, from this point on we all hold hands," the yeti said. "And no complaints."

"I'm not complaining," Benson said, grabbing the yeti's right.

Mordecai grabbed Benson's left.

As a chain, they slowly crawled down the edge of the staircase. Each step grew steeper and more treacherous, but they found a system of balance. Fives held all of them in his ring of luminescence, and Skips held Benson, who held Mordecai.

After what felt like hundreds of steps, they reached the bottom, almost worried that there was another step hiding somewhere. But, there wasn't, and they relaxed on the cold landing of the stairs.

"You can let go now," Skips said, relaxing his grip on Benson.

"Right, sorry," Benson said, retrieving his hand. It quickly cooled to the temperature of the space around him. He rubbed it with the other.

"The rock is different here," Fives said, shining his orange light on the landing. It reflected in pinks and greens like oil does. There was a huge beveled letter carved in it. It almost looked oriental, but at the same time it was natural like a pattern one might see on the back of a beetle.

There was also a rectangular black brick, which had a large crack in its middle from the repeated strikes of a heavy sharp blade. Fives winced at the implications. It seemed that they were at a place of sacrifice.

The phantom shone his light upward, toward the ceiling of the cave. There was a large eye carved in it, and it stared down on the cracked stone directly below its pupil.

"Okay," Benson said, taking a few steps in the chamber. "If the creeps who built all of this are still hanging around, at least there aren't many of them."

"You don't think they're still around, do you?" Mordecai asked with a gulp.

"Nah, couldn't be. What would they eat down here?" Benson asked, trying to comfort himself and Mordecai.

Fives wandered away for a moment, not hearing the others. He looked out of the next archway, which had no bridge. It merely gave into another pit. He noticed a small light somewhere off in the horizon's darkness. After a bit of focusing, he realized that it was a campfire. He focused more and saw several childlike eyes reflecting the fire's light in their direction. The eyes were close together, and much too high off the ground. The fire suddenly went out.

The phantom let out a long guttural of fear and the others noticed.

"What?" Skips asked, turning to the ghost.

"N-n-n-nothing," Fives said, quivering his lip. "J-j-j-just allergies is all." He tried his best not to start sobbing. He didn't want them to be worried.

"There aren't any allergens down here… and wait aren't you a ghost?" Mordecai spouted.

"If you saw something you gotta tell us," Benson said.

"They…" the phantom began. "They're still here." He pointed off in the direction of the fresh embers in the distance.

"Well we can't be sure that they're bad," Mordecai said desperately, "right?"

Fives illuminated a panel near the archway. It portrayed the tall creatures tearing the heart out of one their own and offering it to the eye above.

"I think they're bad," Skips said with a gulp.

They heard a high monotonic whisper around them, along with the patting of feet.

"We gotta get out of here," Benson said, shivering.

One of the creatures appeared in front of them. It was tall and wiry. Its skin was smooth and semi-transparent black. Underneath its flesh were floating masses of grey, which spiraled around each other slowly. It looked up at the ceiling and made a long call to alert its others. Then, it exposed a long, skeletal claw and extended its digits.

They ran, and without direction. Mordecai tripped quickly and heard the infernal chatting and hissing of the tall creatures behind him, closing in. He yelled out for help.

Skips turned back and grabbed him by the arm. He yanked the blue jay to his feet but didn't let go when he sprinted away.

Benson looked back long enough to notice that one of them was on all fours, crawling like a demented salamander. He looked forward again immediately.

Fives struggled to illuminate the rocks that got in their way as they were chased. They dipped under a cave and reemerged on the other side, praying they didn't reach another bottomless pit. They did, and they stopped.

Fives looked back at them, panting and confused.

"Let's go!" he shouted. "They're coming!"

"It's a fucking dead end!" Benson screamed, looking over his shoulder.

"No it's not," Fives said.

"It's a pit, Fives!" Skips shouted, trying to think of a means of defending them from the horrors that echoed in the cave directly behind them.

"You don't see this bridge?" Fives asked, looking down.

"What bridge?" Mordecai asked in a panic.

"This one!" Fives said, getting impatient. He slammed his fist against the bridge that he perceived below him and it emerged out of nothing in a ring of light. Its details were not black like the other carvings; they were gold, and there was some moss growing on the intricacies of the handrails. It extended very far into the darkness. "Woah," Fives said, eyes open.

"God damnit Fives you've saved us all," Skips shouted making his way over to him.

The others followed at a brisk pace, and when they finally made it across they collapsed onto the ground.

The creatures were busy covering the bridge in a viscous sprint. They were closing in.

"Hit it again!" Skips yelled as the monsters appeared in front of him.

Fives slammed his fist against the bridge and the entire thing became the same black stone they had seen everywhere else.

"Again!" the yeti screamed.

Fives gave a might pound. This time, the bridge crumbled, sending the creatures spiraling into the abyss.

They sat in silence, catching their breath. Mordecai broke the silence.

"What, the hell, was that," he said between heaves.

Skips got on one knee and panted the words "temporal artifact displacement."

They looked at him with queer eyes.

"Fives can see the past, present and future all at once," Skips said, getting to his feet. "Apparently he can interface with it, too. Not that he knows it. Lucky."

"I have no idea," Benson said, noticing Mordecai's desperate gaze. "In any case, thanks for the tip off, Fives."

"Yeah, we never would have seen those things coming," Mordecai added.

"Those weren't the same creatures I saw," Fives said, swallowing and blinking mid sentence.

* * *

><p>"I guess you can stay in the boys' room," Pops said, showing Don up the stairs.<p>

"Oh, radical!" Don said, following eagerly. "I get to stay in big bro's room!"

"Yes, in any case it is getting rather late," the older gent said solemnly, opening the door to Mordecai and Rigby's bedroom. "Oh, you cleaned in here to," he chuckled.

The normally musty room was spick and span, and smelled a bit like lavender.

"You bet, I even did Rigby's sheets for him! They were very dirty," Don said, flicking on the light.

"Right… Sheets. Anyways, sleep well. We usually wake up around seven, I'll be in to get you up around then."

"No need, I usually wake up around five," Don said, sitting down on Mordecai's bed.

"Good, good, well you know where the facilities are," Pops said with a smile. He flicked off the light switch.

"Good night boss," Don said.

"A pleasant evening to you too, my good sir," Pops said.

"You really think they're gonna find Rigbone?" Don asked, resting his head on his hand.

"I'm sure of it," Pops replied, closing the door.

The older gent made his way to his room, but stopped. He turned back and opened the door.

"I just wanted to say that you're a fine worker, and it's been a pleasure having you…"

He stopped mid sentence at the queer site of Don, fast asleep, splayed out on Rigby's tiny trampoline. The man was snoring softly and sucking his right thumb.

Pops chuckled to himself. "And they tell me I'M an eccentric."

* * *

><p>Fives held the fire in the dark clearing. He didn't normally sleep, and he wasn't planning to on this night. Skips and Benson were back to back, snoring softly on the cold hard stone. Mordecai was shivering and holding an imaginary friend against his chest.<p>

"Can't sleep, huh?" the ghost asked the blue jay.

"No," Mordecai replied coldly. "I'm freezing."

The ghost had an idea. He placed the magical ember in his mouth and closed it. Through his skin it was like candlelight, and it made his body warm.

"Here," Fives said. "You need this more than they do."

The ghost worked his way in between Mordecai's arms and gave him warmth.

"Isn't this awkward though?" Mordecai said, reluctantly holding the ghost in his arms.

"Mordecai, I'm not even technically 'here'," the ghost said. "I've been dead for a long time. Awkward doesn't even begin to say it."

Mordecai half laughed and squeezed the ghost a bit, pretending he was someone else.

"Thank you," the blue jay said, looking into the amber glow of the phantom's transparent flesh.

"No problem. Hey, I haven't felt this alive in ages," Fives said, trying to dispel some of the odd feelings floating around.

"Funny," Mordecai chuckled. "I've never felt this dead."

They shared a laugh, then some silence. Then, the blue jay nodded off to sleep in the dark, underground chamber.

* * *

><p><em>Author's notes:<em>

Who would have known Fives was so special?

Till next time :)


	14. Wednesday, August 10th Pt 1

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 10th

"Wow, the cops in this town are pretty absent most of the time, huh?" Margaret asked, stepping over the yellow police line surrounding the pit. "Shouldn't they be stopping people from doing this very thing?"

Eileen followed closely behind, ducking under the same police line.

"You know this town doesn't make sense most of the time," Eileen said as the yellow tape nearly knocked off her glasses. "Neither does this idea. What are we doing here again, exactly?"

It was dark.

"We're gonna help Mordecai and Rigby, duh," Margaret said with a smirk. She traced the gaping crater with her flashlight and found the smoking entrance.

"About that," Eileen said with an uncertain groan. "I don't think this is a good idea, Margaret."

"What do you mean?" she asked, turning to her friend.

"Well, they seem to have it under control…" she replied, referring to Mordecai and his coworkers.

"Nonsense," Margaret replied. "We can't just know that they're gonna be okay. What's the hurt in going after them? You brought your backpack with food, extra flashlights and warm clothes, and there's a slim chance that they have all that. Plus, don't you, like, love Rigby or whatever?"

Eileen was quiet.

"C'mon, Eileen, this is your chance to win him over!" Margaret declared excitedly. "Don't you wanna be the princess saving the prince for once?"

"I am not a princess," Eileen chuckled.

"Well you know what I mean," Margaret said.

"I dunno, I just think it seems really desperate," Eileen digressed.

"Desper-" Margaret replied angrily before interrupting herself with a loud yelp and tumbling backwards.

"Margaret!" Eileen shouted, running after her rolling companion.

* * *

><p>"Mordecai?"<p>

"What's up, bud?"

"It's okay if you guys don't find me," Rigby said.

Mordecai stared off into the dark for a moment, rubbing his friend's tummy.

"I mean, it's fine. You're probably better off without me," the raccoon continued.

Mordecai squeezed his friend slightly and grabbed his hand.

"Don't say that dude, we'll find you," Mordecai said, propping his throat on his friend's shoulder.

"Nah," Rigby chuckled, embracing Mordecai's gullet with his own neck. "I'm good as gone."

"I don't want to lose you, man," Mordecai said, examining Rigby's thumb.

"I think you already did," Rigby said with a sniff.

"No, dude, we're gonna find you," Mordecai said, squeezing even tighter.

He awoke suddenly, face to face with Fives, whose eyes were wide open.

"Blah!" Mordecai shouted, releasing the warm spirit. The ghost spit the fire orb into the air and caught it in his hand.

"You make weird faces in your sleep, dude," the spirit said. He hovered to Skips and nudged him into consciousness.

"What, what, I'm awake," the yeti announced sitting up. His awakening also roused Benson who was propped comfortably against the yeti's back.

The gumball machine rubbed his head in confusion as his friends scrambled to get going.

"Jeez, what's the rush guys?" Benson asked, rubbing his leg. "What time is it even?"

"Beats me," Skips said. "I don't got a watch."

"No cell phones, either," Mordecai said, rubbing his back.

They stepped through an archway. It was black, much like the previous ones, and it extended into the endless black sky above them. They stared at the height in awe for a moment as they passed.

"Didn't I get you and Rigby cell phones a couple months ago?" Benson asked after a moment's silence.

Mordecai stood up straighter and sealed his lips. He didn't want to go into how him and Rigby had lost the phones in a bet against Muscleman and High Five Ghost. Him and the spirit exchanged a nervous glance. They took a couple more steps down the obsidian path ahead of them.

"Well?" Benson said.

"No pockets," Mordecai said with a guilty face. "It's probably on the dresser."

Benson looked at him suspiciously.

"It's 9 am," Fives said, interrupting the moment of discomfort.

"What?" Benson asked.

"9, that's the time, man," Fives said. He rocked back and fourth, imagining some song. He was accustomed to hovering, but he had grown to at least pretending to walk with the rest of them.

"How do you know?" Mordecai asked, just as curious as Benson.

"Internal clock, everyone's got one," Fives said.

"Yeah, but you sound pretty confident in yours," Skips said.

"Well I am," Fives said. "But, there is one thing. It's always two hours fast."

"So it's 7 then?" Mordecai asked.

"What? What do you mean?" asked Fives.

"You said it's two hours fast, wouldn't that mean it's 7?"

"Oh, yeah no it's 9… uh… did I factor it?… I think its 7 actually," Fives bumbled. "No it's gotta be 9."

"Well whatever, it doesn't matter. It's always frickin' midnight here anyways," Benson said.

They had a group sigh and kept going. They were not very well rested, and they barely noticed the twinkling purple crystals that were beginning to dot the path around them. That is, until Skips stubbed his toe on one of them, splitting his nail.

The yeti shrieked in pain, calling attention to the strange crystal that was imbedded in the cracked ground in front of him. He held his toe while the others tried to calm him down.

"Fuckin' thing," Skips said, hopping on one foot.

Benson gave him a few pats on the shoulder.

"Well that's different," the gumball man said referring to the crystal.

Fives held the flame near it and peered into its transparent shell. There were dark specs floating around within, as though it were hollow and filled with a liquid. It gave him an idea.

He put the magic ember in his mouth once more and tapped the crystal with his finger. It burst with a golden light and blinded everyone for a moment. When the light faded, there was no longer a crystal but a small, white toadstool.

The spirit's eyes opened with innocent wonder at the small mushroom.

Mordecai knelt down to inspect the thing. It had small green spots glowing on its edge. He tried poking it, and when he did it shuddered. Then, it jumped out of its crack in the ground, much to everyone's surprise. Small arms and legs popped out of its mallow-like body. It made a cry like a baby bird and skittered away into the darkness.

Fives shook with glee and ran to find other crystals to tap on. He hit a larger one and branches shot out in all directions when its purple shell burst. Then, the branches erupted with white pine leaves. The tree shook like an animal drying itself off.

The others watched with mild amusement, as the surrounding forest of crystals slowly became an actual forest.

"Wow, this place used to be something else, huh?" Mordecai said with his knuckle at his hip. "I wonder how they all got turned into crystals."

Fives tapped a medium sized crystal and it burst with light as the others did, revealing three of the small mushroom people stacked on each other. They hissed, disconnected from each other and dispersed into the surrounding darkness.

* * *

><p>A red bird and her best friend fell for what felt like days, too scared to keep track of time.<p>

They watched glowing red eyes pass by in the endless tunnel and screamed until they landed with a thud at the base of the cave.

Something soft caught them.

* * *

><p>Pops awoke with a yawn and a decent pain in his lower back. He sighed as he awoke, not quite knowing how to start the day. He decided on going down the stairs first.<p>

He peaked in the bathroom and saw that Don was drying his face with a towel.

Don shrieked when he saw the older man in the doorway and covered his crotch with the towel.

Pops held up his finger and tilted his head to the side. He decided against arguing and shut the door calmly.

The older man made his way down the next set of stairs and walked into the kitchen. He put on a pot of hot water to boil. A minute later, Don appeared in the kitchen, panting with embarrassment.

"Pops, I'm so sorry, I should have closed the door," the tall raccoon said, sitting down.

"Don, you are still, ahem, nude you know," Pops said. "I don't really understand the difference, my good sir."

Don gave him a blank stare and cocked his head.

"Well you're naked right now, friend," Pops said quizzically, pouring two cups of tea.

"I had just gotten out of the shower, it's a bit different," Don said, accepting one of the mugs.

"I don't think I'll ever fully understand either of you," Pops sighed, blowing on his hot cup and taking a heavy sit.

"Either of who?" Don asked.

"You or your brother," Pops said, taking a sip.

"Oh Rigby? Him and I are nothing alike," Don said with a laugh.

"Don't be so sure," Pops said after a clean gulp.

"All right, boss, indulge me," Don said with a smirk.

"Well, two things," Pops said, straightening his mustache. "You're both nudists…"

"I am not a nudist," Don said with indignation. "It's different!"

"And neither of you seem to like girls," Pops continued, coolly taking another sip of his tea.

Don froze and stared at the older man, holding his breath.

"He's not… I'm not…" Don said in a panic.

Pops chuckled and Don's breath began to quiver

"A young man like yourself, and in such great shape. Generally confident, warm, helpful, and yet no girlfriend?" Pops asked with sly grin.

Don stood up slowly and left the room, looking all around his feet, and Pops realized that it wasn't something the raccoon wanted anyone to know.

"Wait, Don, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were… keeping it a secret," Pops said, getting up.

"There is no secret!" Don shouted with anger in his throat. "I'm not g… I'm not a… I'm not THAT, okay?"

"Look, Don, I…"

"No, get the hell away from me, you… you…" Don half-shouted, then ran.

"Oh dear…"

* * *

><p>"Eileen?" Margaret shouted in the dark.<p>

They could hear something bubbling beneath them.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," Eileen answered, struggling to broadcast her voice. She took her backpack off and looked inside for something. "Aw crap, one of the flashlights broke."

They tried to move, but they were stuck in something soft and sticky. Eileen drew a flashlight from her bag, which had landed close to her. When she turned it on, she saw the goo that had caught them.

It was black and glossy, with little particles floating around in it and it smelled awful.

"What the hell is this stuff?" Margaret asked, peeling her arm out of the blob.

* * *

><p>High Five Ghost continued dancing around the cavern, tapping every crystal he found. With each one was a new surprise. From the smallest ones emerged little bugs. From some of the crystals came gears and other machine parts, all broken and rusted. Often enough, he discovered more of the small mushroom people, but each time they would shriek and run off into the darkness.<p>

There were many large ones, too, and as he tapped them, more pine trees emerged out of the darkness. Some were filled with shiny, green moths that flew out and occupied their old homes.

When he had finally hit every last petrified tree, fungi and creature, he turned around and saw the beautiful and lush forest that he had managed to revive.

"It's amazing," Benson said, feeling one of the trees. "Woah."

"Woah what?" Skips asked, taking a step towards him.

"Feel this," Benson said, still mesmerized by what he touched.

"Woah," Skips said as he joined Benson in frisking the tree.

"Woah what?" Mordecai asked, taking a closer look at the tree.

"Feel this," Skips said with a smirk.

"It's… it's fur!" Mordecai shouted as he joined them in petting the tree. The white bristles of the plant-like creature shook with appreciation at the newfound attention from the group, and a low purring sound resonated from its trunk.

The three of them laughed at the strange moment of comfort in the cavern that had once been cold and barren.

A few moths settled down on the higher up branches, carrying bits of flowers and mushroom. A hole opened up and they tossed the pieces into the tree's body.

"Incredible," Benson said. "This place is amazing!"

"They feed the trees, huh?" Skips remarked, marveling in the alien environment.

Mordecai went to feel another branch, but it aimed straight up, dodging his hand.

"What the…?"

The rest of the branches shook slightly and followed suit, aiming straight up until the tree was in a pole shape. The moths wriggled their way between the bristles, hiding within the tree. Then, the trunk was sucked into the ground with a loud "thunk," startling all of them.

The surrounding trees caught wind and followed suit, throwing their arms up and diving into the cracked earth. Once again, the forest was just a barren cave.

"What the heck was that about?" Fives asked, looking around at the near-empty plain.

They heard a low hiss and a clacking rattle. They looked up for a source, and saw five glowing red circles.

"What is…" Mordecai began. He was interrupted by its descent and loud crash on the obsidian earth around them.

It was a massive hulking spider, whose jaw dripped a foul smelling liquid that made the ground under him sizzle and deteriorate. Its legs were long and sharp, and it had an extra set of four-fingered arms in front. It's cat-like nails clicked together in a menacing fashion.

The four friends were frozen with fear, but Skips was the first to try and get away. It skittered around in front of him and knocked him over with a head butt.

The spider stamped the ground and caused it to crack even more. Then it released a low growl from its throat and came at them in a full sprint.

They all ran from the creature with somewhat successful results. It tripped when it got close, but it's clicking and shrieking caused Mordecai's legs to shake and collapse when it did.

Benson and Skips stopped and turned to rescue Mordecai from the spider's seeping jaws. They each grabbed a hand and pulled as the mandibles found their way to his body. Fives shined the magic ember in the creature's red eyes, stumbling it while Mordecai escaped his death.

They kept running until they hit a wall. It toyed with them as they tried to back away, taking slow steps towards them and scraping the ground with its knuckles.

It approached Skips first, pinning him to the wall with its face. He pulled his feet back to avoid the splashing puddle of acid directly in front of him.

It hissed and brought its mandibles against the wall, creating an ivory collar around his neck. He drew his head back and closed his eyes, waiting for his neck to be severed.

* * *

><p>"Don!" Pops called out in the park. "Don, I'm sorry! Please come back!"<p>

There was no answer. The raccoon had successfully fled from Pops' accusations of homosexuality and was somewhere far away by now.

The large headed man clicked on his walky-talky and phoned Muscle Man, whom he hadn't seen in a few days.

"Muscle Man, come in Muscle Man!" he said into the receiving end of the electronic box.

"This is Green Dog, whaddaya need Poppa?" Muscleman responded. There was beastly giggling in the background.

"Don's gone missing, have you seen him?" Pops asked.

"Yeah, I seen him, the guy ran off into the woods somewhere. He was crying like crazy."

"Did you try and stop him?" Pops asked.

"No way, bro, that guy gives me the creeps," Muscleman said.

"Can you take me to where you last saw him?"

"Yeah sure, you at the house?"

"Yes."

"Alright, we'll be by in like thirty minutes, okay?"

"Thirty minutes? Where on earth are you?"

"Uhhhh… we're in the park."

"Thirty minutes away, but still in the park?" Pops asked, extremely skeptical of the green man's claims. "Are you two out for a joy ride? And you never even introduced me to your temp."

"Ten minutes," Muscleman gasped. "We'll be there in ten minutes, okay bro?"

"I expect you in five, or I'll have you terminated!" Pops shouted.

Pops heard Muscleman squeal with terror. He giggled at his own outburst after hanging up on his employee. "I sound just like Benson," he chuckled, looking down at his walky-talky.

* * *

><p>"I think I'm almost out," Margaret remarked, pulling her arm out of the sludge. "Gah!" she yelled, falling back in. "This is disgusting!"<p>

"I'm just trying to figure out what we're in," Eileen said, still examining the goop with her flashlight. "It seems organic… but what the heck could it be?"

"Would you stop screwing around?" Margaret shouted in a panic. "We need to get out of this stuff. Do you have anything in your bag that might help us?"

"I have a couple sandwiches… and some spare batteries… and some water." She grabbed one of the bottles of water from her pack and shot it at Margaret, who caught it and sipped at it greedily.

"Anything else?" Margaret asked, wiping her mouth and gasping. A bit of the water splashed onto the blob and it hissed and dissolved, freeing Margaret's arm from the viscosity. "Eileen! The water, it doesn't like water!"

Eileen poured out the contents of her water bottle over the goo and it fell apart, allowing her to slide out to the side and onto the obsidian ground. She reached for her pack as Margaret did the same.

They brushed the remaining gunk off of their clothing and out of their hair. Eileen turned and shown her light on the blob that had previously held them. She could make out something metal within.

"Is that… a golf cart?" Margaret asked, tilting her head to the side.

Sure enough, a golf cart was embedded in the clear goo, hovering a few feet off of the ground. The tires were dissolving and fizzing quickly, causing bubbles to rise to the surface with a popping sound. The paint was peeling away, and bits of the engine were beginning to show through the dissolving hood.

"It eats… metal?" Eileen asked no one in particular.

* * *

><p>"Skips!" Mordecai and Benson screamed in unison as the pincers tightened on their friend's neck.<p>

Skips felt the surface his neck wane under the pressure. His eyes felt a weight behind them and they pushed out a bit, meeting the gaze of the monster that held him. It did not have a face in the traditional sense, but he could tell it was smiling.

Mordecai ran to help, but the spider used one of its free limbs to knock him over, throwing him several feet. He landed with a thud and curled up into a ball, coughing and clutching his stomach where he had been struck.

Suddenly, a birdcall rang out and pierced the silent dread that surrounded them. A spear rained down from the sky, impaling the spider through its abdomen. The mandibles released Skips to the ground and he crawled away coughing, grateful and confused.

The spider whipped around, screeching with pain. Acidic mist shot out in all directions from its wound and melted the spear into a white paste. Benson dove to avoid the dangerous fluid.

Another spear came from some miraculous place, this time bursting through the creature's head and causing it to writhe for moment before dropping to the ground.

They all breathed heavily and huddled together, awaiting whatever terror had caused the destruction of their pursuer.

It skittered out and twirled about in celebration. It was an enormous centipede of about twenty-five feet in length, and perched on its head was a joyous looking toadstool.

The mushroom was soft ivory, and his head was a smooth and creamy coffee color that had darker spots mixed in. It had no visible eyes, but where its left one would have been was a dark brown spot.

The mushroom man tapped the centipede on the head, at which it bowed and let him off. He reached for his own head and tore off a chunk. Then, he allowed the centipede to eat it off of his hand. It purred gratefully and lay down next to the spider, examining its corpse like a curious feline.

They jumped back in their huddle as the walking mushroom approached them. It was much larger than the previous ones they had resurrected. They watched quizzically as the missing chunk in its head grew back.

"What… is it?" Mordecai asked as it arrived in front of them.

It tore off another piece of its head and handed it to Skips, who was still having difficulty breathing. It sat Indian style and waited.

"I think it wants you to eat it," Benson said, rubbing his head.

"I figured as much," Skips wheezed, holding his jugular so he could produce some sound.

"Well go on," Fives said, "Don't piss it off."

Skips gulped and placed the fungus to his lips, taking a pained bite, which became a pleasant one. "Huh, not bad," he smirked. He felt warmth in his throat that soothed his crushed muscles.

The mushroom turned back and petted his centipede on its head. Then, he grabbed one of the dead spiders limbs and pulled. It gave with a loud snap and a pop, spilling out more acid onto the ground around him. His pet monster watched him with a concerned eye, tilting its head with every movement. But, the acid slid off of his body without burning it. He tipped the wounded end to drain the blood out of it and returned to the four stranded friends.

He held the leg up in the air and made a few jabbing motions to show them it could be used as a spear. Then, he handed the makeshift weapon to Skips and hurried back to the spider to gather the rest of its limbs.

"Why is it helping us?" Mordecai asked. He watched the mushroom man pet the creature he rode in on. He seemed to whisper something into the creature's ear.

"Who knows," Benson said as the mushroom sprinted back to them with a bundle of severed spider limbs.

He passed one to Benson and one to Mordecai, but when he got to High Five Ghost (who wasn't paying very much attention at all) he stopped, dropped the spider legs and put his hand against the phantom.

Fives panicked a little bit, but Skips nodded at him and this gave him confidence.

The mushroom seemed fixated on the fire orb that Fives was storing in his belly. He stroked the phantom and held his ear against his body as though he were inspecting a pregnant stomach. Then, he got to his knees and bowed respectfully, offering up the last of the spider legs.

Fives grabbed it reluctantly, and when he did, the mushroom man clapped his hands three times and did a short dance around him. The ghost giggled at the queer sight.

After the strange little dance, all four of them were at ease around the mushroom creature.

He stopped and tore off more pieces of himself to feed the other three, who were admittedly quite hungry. They held the fungal bits with skeptical eyes, but Skips assured them that it was good, so they each took mouthfuls of the white flesh and enjoyed them. Even High Five Ghost, who didn't need to eat, ate every last bite of his portion.

The mushroom man watched them eat patiently, tilting his head in the direction of the missing pieces.

"Thank you," Bensons said, reaching out to shake the mushroom's hand. He jumped back, surprised at the gumball machine's offer, but then shrugged and accepted the hand into his mouth, which appeared out of nowhere where there had once been smooth white.

Benson pulled his hand back and shrieked at the wet violation while Skips laughed and patted him on the back. Meanwhile, the mushroom man tried to scrape the taste of Benson off of his tongue with both arms.

The mushroom man looked up and made a holler like a seagull and his centipede sprinted over to him immediately, rubbing its head against his arm. He hopped on its back once again and began massaging its thick whiskers. He made a vibrato chirp, and the centipede lunged underneath the four, tossing them onto its back.

They were somehow un-fearful when the centipede came at them. It had appeared frightening enough, but from its behavior, it seemed like a sweet (albeit curious) mount. They flew through the air and landed in a line, with Mordecai in front, Benson behind him and Skips at the rear. Fives pretended to soar through the air with them, though he was only trying to fit in.

When they were all settled on the back of the beast, the mushroom man yodeled and they took off at a great speed. Its dozens of legs skittered gently beneath them, making soft clickity-clacks against the black stone ground. As they sped up and found there way back into the pine forest, the trees parted ways to let them pass without causing injury to the foliage.

The centipede moved in serpentine struts, making the ride not only fast but hugely entertaining. The mushroom man continued petting its whiskers and whispering strange things into its head. They could feel it purring under them, and it made the ride slightly warmer.

They found themselves at a gap; two cliff faces with nothing in between them. The centipede skidded to a stop for fear of falling, and the mushroom man chuckled to himself in his alien tongue. He gripped his head and tore off a piece, chucking it across the chasm and signaling to the others to hold on tighter.

The centipede lunged fearlessly after the treat, clearing the gap with ease while Skips, Benson and Mordecai held on to each other. It landed with the grace of an 18 wheeler loosing its footing.

After the rough landing, it continued sprinting. As they picked up speed, the cavern became less and less barren and more of the trees appeared. Once again, they parted and dodged the centipede's energetic sprint, but in this area the trees were taller and more varied in color and species.

It was dark, but the speed seemed to make Fives' ember glow brighter, illuminating the frosty white trees. Mordecai stuck his arm out to the side as they crossed a grove of them. The soft bristles felt good against his arm, even at the speed they were going. It was as though he were teasing a cloud. Skips and Benson joined him.

It was truly the high point in their journey so far, and for a moment, with their bellies full and the wind in their hair, they actually believed that there was a chance that they would find Rigby. Perhaps they were being taken to him. They hadn't thought to ask.

The lush grove seemed to go on for an eternity, but they saw a large fire at the edge some ways off and approached it quickly.

When they burst out of the forest, the centipede stood up proudly, signaling to the other mushroom people that they had arrived.

Mordecai peered past the centipede's head and saw a campfire and a small village of people just like their pilot, and of all sizes and shapes. Some were tall and thin, many were short frumpy, but they all seemed to trot around aimlessly, even when they did burst into the scene.

Their captain jumped off of his mount and called the village's attention. Mordecai, Benson and Skips followed suit, sliding off of the beast's back to meet the other mushroom people.

They crowded around, examining the four aliens with their soft white hands. What would have been a moment of awkward discomfort was in many ways a welcome change from the bleakness and cold from earlier.

Mordecai looked around the village while more mushroom people felt his feathers.

The people lived inside what appeared to be larger mushrooms. The village had a low ceiling, presumably because it was within another cave. There seemed to be ambient moon-like auras lighting the environment beyond the cave's entrance, and he could see distant creatures hulking and crawling across the underground plane.

The mushroom people motioned them to come to their fire. They were burning the dried pine-like trees that they had seen so many of. The natural flame was a nice change from the magical one they had been graced with. It was warmer, and it smelled like real smoke.

Their fire pit was surrounded by several of the dark crystals from before. Fives instinctively tapped them, releasing more small mushroom people from within. The others seemed to rejoice quietly at the sight of this, and the shorter mushrooms ran and hugged what they assumed to be the parents.

There was something dreamlike about their movements. It was as though they were in no rush. They celebrated like a silent film slowed down, congratulating each other sluggishly while the four visitors watched, confused.

Benson felt a tap on his lower back and turned around. Their pilot, with his one dark spot where his left eye should have been, wanted them to follow him.

"What should we call him?" Mordecai asked.

"How 'bout spot?" Fives replied. "He's got that one spot you know, he's the only different looking one. Must be special."

"Okay, Spot," Mordecai said with a snicker.

They made a couple yards of distance between the fire and themselves, and then Spot got down on his knees and began drawing in the dirt with his spear.

He drew a rough sketch of a group of tall humanoids, much like the ones that had attacked them on arrival. One of them had its arms up in prayer, and Spot drew a large eye above him.

"Looks like the drawings on the walls," Skips said.

Spot drew a bolt of some sort coming from the tallest creatures hand. Then, he drew the bolt striking one of his people. He drew a crude crystal shell around the victim.

"That explains the crystals," Benson said.

He drew a laughable High Five Ghost with a glowing sun behind him and angel wings. He drew a bolt leading from Five's hand, shattering the crystal.

"Hey, that's me!" Fives announced.

Spot wiped away his drawing entirely and started a new one. This time, he drew a large, busy forest of pines, moths and other things. Then, he drew a tall creature on the left with bolts coming from his hands. He smashed the drawing of the forest with both hands in a display that was unnerving and uncharacteristically emotional. Spot panted and stared at the destroyed image of the forest.

He turned around and rubbed Fives again, who giggled at the feeling. Then, he pointed to his drawing, looking between it and the spirit.

Mordecai had an idea. He used his finger to make a V shape with a ball on the end. Then, he drew two circles with tiny pupils, some wavy hair and a few stripes.

The mushroom man looked at the sketch of Rigby for a moment, and then jumped a bit. He copied the drawing in the dirt, but made the face sad, and surrounded it with squiggly lines that made it look small by comparison.

"They've seen him!" Mordecai shouted.

The mushroom man shook his head. He drew a circle around his original drawing of Fives, and drew an arrow leading from the circle to the group of tall humanoids responsible for the destruction of their forest. He drew a large X across all of them. He got on his knees and put his hands together in plea towards the spirit, who didn't know quite what to think.

Mordecai circled his picture of Rigby twice, and the mushroom man stamped all over it.

"Hey!" Mordecai shouted.

Spot shook his head and drew another crystal with a baby mushroom person in it. Then, he drew a mouth devouring it. This drawing was the angriest in its execution.

"Those things eat their children," Skips said solemnly.

"I don't care!" Mordecai said. "We came down here to save Rigby…"

"And these guys might be able to help us," Benson interrupted, putting a calm hand on Mordecai's shoulder.

Spot drew a high up circle, and a simplistic version of the four of them coming down through it on a winged vehicle. He circled the vehicle and clapped a few times to himself.

"But they have their priorities," Skips said. "Maybe if we help them…"

"No!" Mordecai shouted. "We're running out of time and…"

"Mordecai, I don't think we have many options," Fives said with a sideways mouth.

"He's right," Benson said. "Mr. Mushroom guy?" Benson asked, lightly touching the toadstool with his hand.

It turned and looked up at him slowly.

"We will help you with this," Benson said, pointing at the Mushroom mans drawings. "After, you can help us with this," he continued, pointing at Mordecai's ruined drawing. "Yes?"

Spot nodded and danced around. Then, he ran back to his people and told them the news with his movements. They all jumped and cheered noiselessly, which was still somewhat unnerving.

They heard a crackle come from Skips' trousers.

"Is that the walky-talky?" Benson asked.

Skips plucked the plastic device from his front pocket and they all listened carefully.

Through the static, they distinctly heard Pops' voice calling out "Don."

"No way," Skips said.

"What?" Mordecai asked.

"Do you realize what this means?" Skips asked back.

"No," the blue jay replied.

Skips chuckled. "The park's up there," he said, pointing straight up.

They all gave a unified "whoa" at the realization.

* * *

><p>"Don!" Pops shouted from the back seat of Muscleman's golf cart. "Don! Where are you?"<p>

Muscleman drove the vehicle and his muse sat in the passenger seat. They were both wearing bathing suits and smelled rather salty.

"This is not good," Pops grimaced. "And you're sure he disappeared around here?"

"Yeah bro," the green man replied. "He ran through here and then into the woods, it was nuts."

The large woman in the passenger seat turned around and offered her hand to Pops. "I'm Starla by the way."

"I noticed," Pops said with distaste. Her name was sequined across the top piece of her swimsuit. "Erm, I mean nice to meet you."

"What did you say to him anyways?" Muscleman asked, shutting off the engine.

"Apparently, something he wasn't ready to hear," Pops replied, getting out of the vehicle. "Don!" he shouted into the woods. There was no answer.

* * *

><p>"Where are we?" Margaret asked as they passed the first archway.<p>

"I don't know, Margaret," Eileen replied, shining her flashlight around the walls. Her light hit the edge of the first cliff. "Whoa, watch out, there's a drop."

"I got ya," Margaret replied. "Give me the flashlight real quick?"

Eileen handed her friend the light.

Margaret took the light and walked carefully over to the edge of the cliff. She shined the light straight down and didn't find an ending to the pit.

"Jeez, quite a drop, huh?" she asked, still looking for a floor surface. She picked up a stray rock off the ground and dropped it in her flashlight's beam. It disappeared from vision, and several seconds later a quiet splash rang out from the pit. "Hm, water."

"Look at this," Eileen said, grabbing the flashlight. She pointed it at the archway they had come through, revealing the intricate designs it held. "Someone used to live down here."

"I think I see a path over there," Margaret said, redirecting Eileen's hand. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

..

….

...

**Splash**

Rigby's eyes shot open at the sound. He could feel his body moving up and down with the breath of the creature that held him. Its huge voice greeted him.

"Poor, poor little Rigby…"

He couldn't answer. A weakness had taken him; a foreign weakness that he had never felt. A tentacle stroked his ears back gently and he shivered at the sensation.

"They won't hurt you..."

He creakily turned his neck toward the direction of the splashing sound. He could see an ivory orb reflecting off of the running stream. He could see large pillars that stood ominously on pedestals in the middle of the dark river. He watched for where the water led, and he saw a drop with some rapids. He squinted his eyes and spotted a dimly lit campfire some miles off. He thought for a moment that he recognized Mordecai's beaked silhouette against the low orange glow. His eyes shut once more.

* * *

><p><em>notes:<em>

Sorry about the massive delay on this chapter... finals and all of that. I've also been working out the ecosystem of this place for a while.

This chapter was heavily inspired by Jacaszek's new album, Glimmer. It's got some incredible ambient tunes and I suggest you do yourself a favor and purchase it. The song titled Dare-Gale comes to mind.

If you haven't found me on Tumblr, what are you waiting for? Look me up! There's fan art, you can ask me questions, all of that good stuff =) (I go by DatRegularBro there.)

As always, comments and reviews are welcome and help me get in the spirit of writing.

And to all of my readers, keep reading. I love all of you. Your support has really made my life heaps better.

So until next time =)


	15. Wednesday, August 10th Pt 2

Mordecai warmed his hands by the campfire, hoping that the flames would calm him. The pit in his heart was cold, and wrought with guilt. He played the conversation over and over in his head. He couldn't decide if it was the creature's influence or Rigby's heartbreak that caused him to hit Mordecai upside the head, but either way he knew he deserved it. He heard the low clunk of Benson sitting down beside him.

"Hey bud," Benson sighed. The flame's reflection danced across his curved glass head.

"Yo," Mordecai replied softly, letting his chin rest on his hands.

Skips sat down next to Benson, letting so little space fall between them that their shoulders nearly touched. He clicked a button on the side of his walky-talky.

"Pops! Come in, Pops!" the yeti said into the receiver.

* * *

><p>Pops heard a crackled voice at his hip and grabbed his walky talky quickly, desperate as he was to find Don.<p>

"Skips?" he asked with disbelief. "Is it really you? Where on earth are you, gentlemen?"

The response was barely audible, but the few words he did make out brought him to the conclusion that they were "under the park," whatever that meant.

"Is that Skips?" Muscleman asked, approaching the older gentleman. "Tell him to put Fives on the line!"

Pops ignored the green man. "Have you found Rigby yet?"

"That's a negative," the voice replied.

"Oh dear," Pops said, still scanning the trees for the raccoon's older brother.

"Yo, gimme the walky talky, I need to talk to Fives!" Muscleman grumbled.

"It can wait!" Pops said sternly.

Muscleman cringed and fell back a little at the unfamiliar tone.

"Go do something else," Pops said, with a strange menace in his face.

"Jeez, whatever you say boss," Muscleman said with a scoff before getting in the cart with Starla. "And tell Fives he's dead to me."

* * *

><p>"Oh boy…" Benson said calmly, upon hearing such an angry voice from the speaker. "Skips, can I speak with Pops for a sec?"<p>

"Yeah, sure," Skips said pleasantly, handing Benson the device.

"Pops?" Benson asked.

"Hello my good man," Pops sighed.

"Hey, how you holding up? Did you find some temps?" The gumball man got to his feet and walked away from the fire, giving himself and the older man some privacy.

"Well I found _a _temp… but he's run off somewhere in the woods…" the old man's lip quivered, and Benson could hear it even through all of the crackling.

"I'm sure you'll find him," Benson said with assurance. "But I'm not worried about that, what's going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" Pops asked.

"You're starting to sound like me," Benson chuckled.

Pops sniffed a couple of times.

"Look, Pops, I understand. It's not easy," Benson continued. "Just… try not to let it get to you, okay?"

Suddenly, the voice on the other end broke into a cry. "Oh Benson, it's just too much!" Pops sobbed. "And the snack bar has a line but no one is working the register, I have not answered the phone because I'm terrified of my father…"

"I know, Pops," Benson said. The empathy in his voice was as clear as ever.

"I can't handle it," Pops sobbed.

"I was afraid of this," Benson said calmly. "But you can do it. I really think you can."

"Benson I don't think I can…"

"Pops, you can do it. I trust you," Benson said sternly. Then, he gave the device back to Skips.

Mordecai backed away from the fire, feeling unworthy of the current company. He found a quiet spot to stare into the distance and sat cross-legged on the floor. He conjured a situation in his mind in which he was holding his lost friend against his chest, telling him all of the things he needed to hear.

He imagined himself laying next to his friend, in a comfortable place, stroking his ears and scratching his stomach. Every time he listened for the words though, he could not hear them. They came out as a mumbled slur, but the look in Rigby's eyes made it seem like they worked. The vision was bisected by the sound of Benson's voice.

"This again," Benson said jokingly, sitting next to him.

"Hey Benson," Mordecai breathed.

"Hey yourself," the gumball machine replied.

Mordecai breathed out again, unsure of what his boss wanted.

"I didn't say anything earlier because you were upset, but… you know that relationships in the workplace are against the rules, right?"

"Oh ha, ha," Mordecai mocked, ending with a sulk.

"Hey, I'm kidding," Benson said, friendly as he could.

"Well don't," Mordecai replied.

"Look, I know you miss him," Benson said. "We all know that."

"Yeah, and now we're gonna help the stupid mushroom guy instead of doing what we came here to do," Mordecai snapped.

Benson looked down. "Yeah, I know."

"You know, huh? What if he dies out there?"

"I don't know, I don't think he's gonna die out there," Benson said. "These guys know where he is, and we owe them."

"For what?" Mordecai barked.

"For saving our lives, jeez, what's gotten into you anyways?" Benson huffed, getting to his feet.

"What's gotten into me?" Mordecai asked. "Look, I don't know. I'm tired. My whole body hurts, and my best friend is out there somewhere, alone."

"Mordecai, please, man," Benson said. "You have to be patient."

"He waited for twenty-three years. We're gonna keep him waiting some more?" Mordecai asked.

"What do you mean?" Benson remarked.

"He liked me all this time, and I had no idea," Mordecai said, picking up a rock off the ground. "Or maybe I did know, somewhere in the back of my mind, in which case I ignored him."

"Life is complicated, Mordecai," Benson said. "We'll find him…"

"And what if we don't?" Mordecai interrupted.

"Then we'll have one new position available at the park," Benson said, deadpan. He didn't catch Mordecai's horrified and confused expression as he walked back to the fire.

* * *

><p>Pops hung up the walky talky after saying goodbye to Skips. Then, he continued calling Don's name into the woods.<p>

He walked for a bit, noting the somewhat-early orange leaves that appeared on some of the trees. Eventually, they started thinning out, as though fall had hit a certain part of the forest early.

Then, he saw him. Don was in a ball, next to a small pile of rocks. He looked gloomy, but not as manic as before.

"Don!" Pops yelled, running to see him. The clearing was completely void of leaves.

"It's a well," Don said quietly, turning around to look at the pile of rocks.

"Don, I was worried sick," Pops said.

"But there's no water in it," Don said softly, dropping a stick into the opening in the top. "Listen…"

Pops humored the strange request and heard a clatter after a short time.

"I didn't know there was a well in the park, wonder why it's here," Don said softly.

"Don, please come back to the park, I…"

Don began climbing onto the edge of the well.

"Don are you mad?" Pops yelled, grabbing the raccoon by the arm. In his current state, he was surprisingly light and submissive. Pops easily pulled him off the edge.

"Did you know there was a well here?" Don said as he calmly sat down once again.

"Well, no, I didn't," Pops remarked, looking down into the thing. "But, I do think that there are more important matters at hand." His voice echoed down the deep chamber of the well. "Oh, wait a moment, I do remember this well… Pa used to bring me out to this spot sometimes. He always said that this well predated the Colonies," Pops said proudly. Then, a voice echoed in his head.

"_We're under the park…"_

"My god," Pops whispered. "Do you think…"

* * *

><p>Margaret and Eileen crept through the cavernous underground, looking for clues as to where Mordecai and his friends had gone. A chilling wind hit them from the side and dragged Skips' make shift lamp out from behind a stone.<p>

"That looks like a part of the golf cart!" Eileen said, examining it.

"Wonder why they dropped it," Margaret said, scratching her head.

"Oh gosh, you're right, what would they do without a light in this place?" Eileen added.

Margaret shivered at the thought of stumbling around in this dark place without a lamp or lantern. "Maybe they were chased off by something and had to drop it," Margaret said with a quiver.

"No way, what could possibly live down here?" Eileen said, looking around frightfully.

"Zombies," Margaret belched. "Monsters and giant bugs." She quivered some more, looking at Eileen with frightened eyes.

Eileen half-laughed. "Don't be silly, Margaret, those things don't exist."

"Well they have to come from somewhere," Margaret gasped. "People don't just make things up."

"People make stuff up all the time," Eileen chuckled. "There aren't any monsters down here, don't worry. And giant bugs? That wouldn't even make sense, like how big are you talking?"

"I dunno, car sized?" Margaret replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, that's not possible. Their muscles wouldn't be strong enough to carry them. Now c'mon, let's keep going. They can't be that far off."

* * *

><p>Back at the campfire, Skips was busy letting the mushroom people examine his arms as Benson watched curiously.<p>

Fives was interacting with one of the smaller ones, which was completely transfixed with his hovering abilities.

Mordecai's thoughts were filled with images of his friend. He wondered for the first time why his heart waited so long to give him these feelings of love. He tried to find a time before his intimate relations between him and his friend, but he couldn't.

He felt a stirring in his loins at the thought of the showers and the steam they shared only a few days prior. The feeling rose into his stomach and chest. He realized how much time he had lost and how much he needed to make up for. That is, if they ever found Rigby.

An old looking mushroom emerged from the perimeter of the orange campfire and raised his arms, and the others stopped what they were doing to observe him. He was holding a brown stick with one orange leaf hanging off of its twig.

Spot and the others crowded around the older one, leaving Mordecai, Benson, Skips and Fives behind to wonder what all of the hubbub was about.

The older one started walking away, and Spot turned around, motioning the four friends to follow him. They got up and wandered into the group of obedient mushrooms.

After several steps they arrived at a mound of objects, most of them shiny and rusted. The older mushroom tossed the stick into the pile and it made a clatter. The others cheered in their silent language.

There was a bright spotlight a few yards off: an opening in the almost endless black ceiling. Skips looked at it with wonderment. It seemed like a fixed moon, gracing them with its wisdom.

Benson approached the shining pile, much to the panic of the mushroom people. The smaller ones hid behind their elders and peeked out at him.

"Relax, relax," Benson said. "I'm not gonna touch it."

"What are they?" Mordecai asked.

"They're cans," Benson said. "Plain old cans."

"Any labels?" Fives asked with a cocked eye.

Benson looked for one that wasn't completely rusted. When he found one, he started chuckling uncontrollably. Skips brought his attention toward the group.

"What?" Fives asked.

"'Soda'," Benson laughed. "Sam's Own Draught Ale… Man, me and Skips used to… pound… this stuff…" His thought trailed off as his eyes wandered toward the light in the sky.

"Is that a pair of pants?" Mordecai asked, pointing to a tattered piece of denim sticking out of the pile of cans.

Benson turned a bit pale at Mordecai's remark and didn't say a word.

"Where did your people find these?" Skips asked the oldest mushroom of the group.

He silently pointed towards the light in the sky and the others bowed behind him.

"Skips… you said we're under the park," Benson said. "Do you think…"

"It 's gotta be. Hold on, let me phone Pops," Skips said. The yeti grabbed the walky talky from his pocket and clicked it on. Pops answered quickly.

* * *

><p>"Hello?" The older man said as he sat beside now calm Don.<p>

"Pops, how you doin? Did you find the temp?" Skips' voice said.

"Yes, he was out in the woods but I found him."

"Are you by a well by any chance?"

"Why, yes! How did you know?" the older man asked into the plastic device.

"Just a thought," Skips chuckled. "Would you mind tossing something down it?"

"Okay," Pops said reluctantly. He picked up a stone and plopped it in the mouth of the well.

* * *

><p>The yeti watched the stone drop from the enormous height through the sky light.<p>

"What well?" Mordecai asked as Skips hung up on Pops.

"It's a place Skips and I used to go to drink when no one was looking," Benson said, grinning towards the yeti.

"You guys used to drink on the job?" Fives asked with gaped eyes.

"Used to? As if we ever stopped," Skips laughed.

"Skips," Benson lectured.

"After this is over, you lose the right to yell at us for anything," Mordecai said.

"I don't condone it, and Skips is exaggerating," Benson replied.

"No I'm not," Skips added with a smirk.

"Skips!" Benson begged.

"Look, that's beside the point," Skips said, suddenly serious. "This means there's a way in directly from the park, for when we have to escape."

"Escape?" Fives asked.

"Well we have to get back somehow… something tells me we're gonna be in a hurry when we do."

* * *

><p>Margaret and Eileen continued down the obsidian path until they found a steep staircase. Eileen shined her light down the steps and cringed at the distance.<p>

"Mordecai!" Margaret shouted down. Her voice echoed for what felt like hours.

"Shh!" Eileen said, instinctively.

Margaret looked at her quizzically. "I thought you said there's nothing down here."

"Doesn't hurt to be careful, though, right?" Eileen shrugged, embarrassed.

"Let's just keep going," Margaret groaned.

The tall, red bird stepped down on the first step and slipped immediately, hitting her head against the stone.

Eileen knelt to help.

Margaret let out a vocal of pain while her friend rubbed the spot on her head.

"Ow, damnit!" Margaret barked. "The steps are weird, like, they look straight but as soon as I put my foot down it felt like I was on a hill!"

"Aw, sweetie… c'mon, elevate it, you're bleeding," Eileen said, lifting Margaret's head.

"I hate it here! I hate it," Margaret shouted.

Eileen tried to comfort her friend as best she could, but suddenly, the red girl's face drained of color and she stopped making noise. Eileen looked where Margaret was looking and saw an immortal, expressionless face beneath a layer of oily transparent fluid. It brought its face closer to theirs and extended a skeletal hand, screaming in strange tones as it wrapped its arm around their bodies.

* * *

><p>Skips caught the hard makeshift spears in his right hand shortly after Spot found them on the ground and hucked them in his direction, without flinching.<p>

"We ready to go?" the yeti asked, taking one last look at the fire.

"I'm ready," Benson said, taking his spear from Skips. "How 'bout you two?"

His insubordinates nodded in unison, grabbing their spears from Skips.

Spot clapped his hands twice in the air, and his mount appeared from behind a rock. It scooped him up.

"This again," Benson sighed.

The centipede shot underneath them, tossing them skillfully onto his back, and within seconds they found themselves amidst the white trees like before, holding onto each other to stay balanced.

* * *

><p>"Don," Pops said, patting the raccoon on the back. "Are you feeling a little better?"<p>

"Hm?" Don asked, rather lethargic.

"Don… I know this all very shocking for you right now, but maybe you should try to come back with me, yeah?" Pops asked.

"Hm," Don grunted, unwillingly.

"Look, Don, this is all very unnecessary. Very unnecessary. I feel for you, but think of the bigger picture, my good man. Your brother is down there, all alone, and he needs you to route for him from up here, so please, for your brother's sake, just forget that this all happened and come back with me, okay?"

Don looked up slowly and nodded. "I guess. I mean… No, you're right."

Pops smiled and curled his mustache a bit while Don got to his feet. "Good, good. You see? I bet you're feeling better already."

"My head hurts from sulking," Don said, rubbing his forehead.

"Nonsense, nothing a good meal and a cup of tea can't fix," Pops chuckled.

* * *

><p>They rode in on the centipede like the wind. They weren't flying but it certainly looked like they were.<p>

They skidded to a halt when they came to another valley filled with crystals.

Skips dismounted first, and Fives followed shortly after, tapping the nearest crystals to see what they held. From the first one popped out a white pine tree that shivered with appreciation upon release. Their thawed branches released more of the white moths into the air, ready to collect food for them.

Spot watched carefully, completely entranced by the miracle before him. The forests had been frozen for so long, and yet the spirit was able to defrost all living things. He was on the lookout for the tall monsters that created and ate the crystals, but other than that he was cheery and amazed.

Mordecai and Benson watched and held their spears close, ready to fight whatever horror might be creeping in the darkness.

With every tap of Fives' finger, the valley became less and less gloomy and the crew's mood picked up more and more, relaxing and lowering their guard.

One larger crystal Fives tapped on erupted with light and revealed a creature roughly the size of a van. It bloomed feathery tendrils in all directions and pulsed with the neon iridescence of a deep-sea creature before floating silently into the air above them. It flew slowly towards one of the white trees and landed on its branches, hugging the trunk and absorbing its warmth.

Spot clapped his hands at the sight of the flying thing while Fives tapped on more crystals.

The next tap uncovered what appeared to be an undersea tubeworm, which released a grey fog into the air and whistled softly. As Fives uncovered more of the tubeworms, the air around them became more humid and pleasant. Some of the moths chirped and spun through the mist happily.

"It's like one big symbiotic forest," Benson said, hopping off the centipede to watch the new ecosystem unfold. Mordecai slid off behind him.

Fives hit another rather large crystal, which melted away and revealed a huge blob.

"Huh," Mordecai said, looking at the large pile of goop, which writhed up and down in an ancient rhythm. He did what his gut told him and poked it with his spear. It did not react.

"Primitive," Skips said, smiling and nodding his head. The yeti went over to touch it.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Benson asked nervously as Skips plunged his finger into the glop.

"Nah, it's fine. It's just some goo," Skips chuckled.

"Alright, let me try," Benson said, stepping next to the slime.

Spot saw this and immediately shuffled to them as quickly as he could.

Benson drove his finger into the slime and Spot yanked him from behind.

"Wha… OW AHH!" Benson shouted as he fell back. The slime coated his hand and was busy tearing apart his fingers on a molecular level.

Spot grabbed Benson's hand and stuck it in his mouth. He struggled to suck the digestive slime off of Benson's seared metal flesh. The mushroom man spit the stuff he collected in his mouth and looked at the hand that he had attempted to save. It was dead, thin, and full of holes.

Benson tried making a fist, and pieces of his hand started crumbling off. He fell to his knees and screamed.

"OW! FIVES, FIX IT! FIX IT!" Benson begged as he fell to the ground on his side.

Fives looked around, confused and scared. "It… I don't know how, it doesn't work that way!"

Skips frantically tried to comfort his friend. He could only think of one thing; he offered his fingers for the gumball man to bite down on. Benson accepted them with poise, and even in his state of excruciation, he didn't bite hard enough to draw blood from the ape.

"If you can't fix it, take it off!" Benson shouted into Skips' ear. "Destroy it!"

Skips grabbed Benson's hand and squeezed, then pulled. The hand crumbled and severed under the yeti's powerful grip, and Benson's body stopped seizing.

The gumball man fell to the ground, relaxed and recovering from the pain. His severed hand twitched about on the ground for several seconds before vibrating and then dying.

"Benson!" Mordecai shouted, getting to his knees. "Dude, are you okay?"

The gumball machine chuckled a bit after catching his breath. "Don't worry, I have more back at my apartment. Fucking blob…"

Mordecai reached down and grabbed his boss by his remaining hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mordecai asked Benson.

"I'm fine, trust me I'm fine," Benson said with a smiling sigh.

"Benson's a hard ass, literally. He can handle anything," Skips gleamed.

Benson smirked and checked Skips in the gut with his new stub.

Mordecai laughed while Skips gave an "oof" and pushed back.

Fives continued unleashing plants and animals from their crystal prisons, but this time, the crew was a bit more cautious. When he was finished and the forest was restored to its former self, all were happy except Spot. They hadn't found any of the mushroom children.

Spot expressed his distaste and disappointment immediately. He motioned for them to return to the centipede. They did, and the whole group sped off in search of another forest.

* * *

><p>"I thought you said there weren't any monsters down here!" Margaret shrieked as she and her friend were dragged in an unforgiving fashion down the steep stairs.<p>

"I didn't know," Eileen shouted. "I've never been down here before… oh god we're gonna die. Margaret, are we gonna die?"

"Yes!" Margaret screamed, and then cried. "We're gonna die…"

The monster roared with pleasure at his scared prisoner's screams, and their screams got louder with his frightening pride.

At the bottom of the staircase, the monster placed them on a stone.

Margaret managed to kick the creature in its face a few times before she was completely subdued by its arms.

She did the only thing that she could think of doing.

"Mordecai!" she screamed. "Help!"

* * *

><p>"Did you guys hear that?" Mordecai said, suddenly looking around. The wind caught his hair at every angle.<p>

"Hear what?" Benson asked.

"I thought I heard someone… there it is again!" Mordecai shouted. He squinted his eyes and listened more carefully.

"What did you…" Skips said, before being interrupted by Mordecai's single raised finger.

"Help!"

The call was barely loud enough, but they heard it.

Mordecai tapped on Spot's shoulder and pointed in the direction of the cry.

The mushroom shook his head, but Mordecai was resilient.

"Go that way!" the blue jay yelled.

Spot dropped his head stubbornly and steered his creature in the direction of the distress call.

They sped and sped at an unreal speed and burst through the archway.

"Margaret?" Mordecai shouted.

"Mordecai!" the red bird responded.

Margaret was spread out over a large brick, and a monster holding a huge, sharp piece of obsidian was looming over her, ready to dissect her body.

"Stop!" Mordecai screamed, hopping off of the centipede and running to attack the monster. He pierced it through its body, but it did not stagger. Its soft torso rotated a half spin and its face melted down to confront him. He fell over with fear as Margaret struggled to get herself and Eileen off of the cutting block.

Skips sprinted to the fallen blue jay's side and pulled him off the ground.

Spot hid and shivered behind his pet, terrified.

The monster turned to face Eileen, who crawled away ineffectively. Her little leg was snatched and pulled back. The monster held her up in front of its face and stared into her with a cold intelligence.

Skips disrupted the confrontation with a swift jab of his spear into its face. The creature dropped Eileen onto her neck and she blacked out.

It grabbed Skips' spear and brought its hands closer to its body, impaling itself more and bringing Skips with it. The yeti was forced to let go to avoid being swallowed. Then, the creature took the spear and snapped it in half, discarding the pieces on the ground.

Mordecai picked up his spear and attempted to injure the creature again, but to no avail. His spear simply passed through the monster's soft body.

Benson watched in a panic, unsure of how to help in the battle. He decided on grabbing the mole girl from off the ground and getting her somewhere safe, near the centipede.

Fives was confused as well, trying to think of a way he could injure the monster. He couldn't think of any, but he decided to try shining the magic ember encased in his body against the monster's eye.

It screeched at the light and fell to the ground. It sprouted six arms and skittered away and up a wall, giving the group a few seconds to gather themselves.

Margaret ran to Mordecai and hugged him. Her tears soaked his shoulder. He held her as strongly as he could, but knew that at any moment the monster would be back for them.

The now six-armed monster rushed back in front of them and knocked Skips across the hall.

The downed yeti lifted his head and shouted "Fives! Hit him with the ember, aim for its head!"

Fives looked in all directions, and then tossed the glowing energy source towards the monster's face. It hit, and the creature's head erupted in all directions, spitting black goop all over the place.

It got to its knees as though it were vomiting and heaved a few times at the ground. Then, the back of its body crawled through its neck and it died, inside out on the obsidian floor.

Margaret brought hers and Mordecai's mouths together and kissed him deep. His eyes shot open and he nearly pushed her away, but her tongue was soft and her scent was inviting. They finished the kiss and Mordecai coughed with his hands on his knees.

"Margaret, what in god's name are you doing down here?" Mordecai pronounced through exhausted breaths.

"We came down to help," Margaret claimed. A thin veil of embarrassment peppered her words.

"Why?" Mordecai asked angrily. "Look, that was really stupid of you to do," Mordecai lectured.

"I almost just died, asshole," Margaret scowled, stomping her right foot forward and sticking her finger in Mordecai's face.

Mordecai slapped her wrist and looked in her eyes. His pupils jumped around hers and a bead of sweat made itself known in his temple. He saw her fear and lust.

She lunged forward for another kiss and he pushed her away.

"What are you doing!" he shouted.

Everyone looked on, not knowing what to say.

"I… I…" Margaret said.

"What? You love me now? Oh that's just great," Mordecai said, turning around and crossing his arms. "You see it to, huh? That picture of us, the one our parents would love to show everyone."

"Mordecai," Margaret insisted, starting to feel hurt.

"And you couldn't have picked a better time to figure it out, huh? To figure out that we were made for each other?" He turned around and stuck his neck out.

She tried to interject again, but was cut off.

"You just had to wait until me and Rigby started fucking, didn't you?"

She stopped breathing, as did everyone else.

Mordecai looked around, not entirely sure if he had imagined what he said.

* * *

><p><em>Author's notes<em>

_Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday, I know I did!_

_I don't really have any new music to talk about this time, I was mostly listening to the ambient stuff I've talked about before._

_As you can probably tell, this chapter still has another part left (maybe even two...) I know I said I'd refrain from that, but these chunks of writing get more difficult and convoluted every time I boot up my word processor. _

_The next time I update, it will not be a continuation of the current story. It will be something else, something to keep you satisfied before the next full update, so keep that in mind when you get that little email that says August Updated._

_As always, comments and critiques are welcome and help me become a better writer._

_Till next time..._


	16. Monday, August 10th, 1987

AUGUST 10th, 1987

The sound of an aluminum can popping pierced the night air as Benson let out a loud celebratory shout.

Skips chuckled and cracked his own. The can read SODA, but its contents were anything but. The yeti chugged his, and crushed the empty can against his forehead. He chucked it over his shoulder, into the old stone well.

"To the well!" Benson slurred, taking a long sip.

"To the well," Skips agreed, catching Benson by the armpits as he stumbled over. He chuckled as he held his friend, whose face was upside-down from his perspective.

Benson's mouth rocked across his face as he grinned, "Hi handsome," through his teeth up at the yeti. He lifted his eyebrows twice, as clichéd as he could muster.

Skips sat down on a forest green sleeping bag and let Benson fall into his arms and lap. They rested against the stone of the well and enjoyed each other's company in the dark.

"Hey, buddy, want another beer?" Skips gleamed down at the mechanical man he snuggled with most of his strength.

"Certainly," Benson chortled with a drunken hiccup.

Skips laughed a bit and gave Benson's chassis a good slap. Then, he grabbed a beer from the cardboard box at his feet and handed it to Benson.

Benson drank the beer gingerly, even with Skips stealing every other sip.

"So what's goin on with this, anyways?" Benson asked, stroking the yeti's chin.

"What's going on with what?" Skips laughed, holding Benson's glass dome.

"You know, us," Benson said, turning over. "Something's going on with us, and I know we ain't talkin' about it but it's there, man."

"You're crazy," Skips chuckled. "We gotta keep you off the pot."

"Nah, nah nah nah. It's not the pot, I know you feel it to," Benson snickered boorishly, feeling Skips' head.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Skips blushed.

"Then why are you touchin' me so much these days?" Benson asked, letting his head rest between the yeti's arm and side.

"We're just really good pals, ya know?" Skips said, relaxing in the soft fleece and throwing another empty can down the well. "Brothers."

"Nah, nah nah, we ain't brothers," Benson said. "Brothers don't do this…"

Benson brought the bridge of his nose against Skips' face and the locked lips with the yeti, who submitted quicker than he wanted to.

Skips received the kiss with a gentle rub on the mechanical man's arm. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

Benson's hand slid down Skips' chest and past his naval. His metal fingers unbuttoned all five buttons on the yeti's pants.

The next thing thrown down the well was Skips' only pair of jeans.

A half hour later, Skips and Benson emerged from their romp, panting. Skips unzipped the sleeping bag half-way to let some of the summer night breeze cool them off, exposing both of them to the outside air.

Benson kept his head tucked under Skips' arm, dough eyed and slack jawed while the yeti lit a cigarette for each of them.

"Well that was something," Benson laughed, rubbing his head against Skips' side. "You're unbelievable, you know."

"Well, I've worked on enough cars to know how to twist some gears when I need to," Skips chuckled, patting Benson's chassis.

"Where's the cheesy porn music when you need it," Benson raved, nuzzling the yeti some more.

Skips laughed and basked in his self-confidence, adding a few more boasts. "Next time I'll bring my socket wrench," Skips growled.

"Have mercy!" Benson cried ironically.

They laughed some more together, slowly losing volume until there was silence.

They chatted about nothing in particular and watched the stars until Benson fell asleep.

Within himself, Skips knew that he was still avoiding the encounter of the night. He didn't want to admit to himself that he and his friend shared a deeper connection than he wanted them to.

He sighed, and looked down at his sleeping friend's glass head. He rubbed it gently, then brought the mechanical man under his arms and zipped up the sleeping bag.

Benson woke up for a moment. "You're warm," he said with a short laugh, before yawning and falling back to sleep.

It was getting cold.

* * *

><p><em>author's notes:<em>

Hey everyone :]

I hope you enjoyed this little morsel.

I know it's not a long one, but I decided I'd throw in an intermission chapter. Expect these between some of the bigger updates... just little tidbits explaining some of the things in the other chapters.

So, until next time!


	17. Wednesday, August 10th Pt 3

"What did you just say?" Margaret asked, as a heartbroken Eileen lifted her injured neck off of the cold floor.

* * *

><p>"Only if you want to…"<p>

"I do," he replied.

"You realize this means you'll never see any of them again, right?"

"Yup."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He sniffed a bit.

The creature sighed and patted him on the head. "Oh, poor little thing."

* * *

><p>"What did you say, Mordecai?" Margaret asked again.<p>

Mordecai was having trouble hearing her. His ears were ringing and her voice was jumbled. He turned around and walked.

The air was still and their eyes were in disbelief.

She tried grabbing his shoulder but he shrugged her away. She followed still.

The others stayed behind.

In a small clearing, lit by some strange glowing plants, Mordecai sat down cross-legged on the floor. Margaret stood beside him.

"Mordecai," she said putting a hand on him. This time, he didn't shrug it off.

"Why'd you have to wait so long?" Mordecai asked, looking up at her. He was no longer angry; just sad.

She didn't respond.

He looked back down.

A cool wind shot through the dark. It stung her eyes.

"Mordecai…"

She sat down next to him and leaned on his shoulder a bit.

He sighed.

"Sorry for flipping out," he said.

"It's okay," she mumbled, shivering a bit from the wind.

He let his arm drape itself over her shoulder and squeezed a bit.

"Cold down here," he said, rubbing her.

"Yeah," she said.

"So are you okay?" Mordecai asked.

"Yeah, I guess. Just a bit shaken up."

They were silent for a bit, trying to come up with something.

In the distance, one of the strange creatures that they had freed was hovering in circles, glowing and releasing some kind of iridescent pollen. It was beautiful.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," Mordecai said. "It's funny, kinda."

She didn't laugh.

"Look, Mordecai I'm sorry," she sighed, placing her palm against the cold ground.

"Don't be, you just wanted to help."

"No, not about that," she said, "about everything."

"No, no, listen, none of us saw it coming," Mordecai said, leaning into her. "I'm just embarrassed is all, don't know why… we just didn't want anyone to know, and I mean... I didn't think I could go through with it…"

"What happened?" She asked. "Is that why he's down here?"

"Who, Rigby?"

"Yeah, I mean… I don't really know the whole story. Me and Eileen just sort of came… well I sort of dragged her along, hope she's okay."

"Oh, right, she really likes him, huh?"

"Yeah… you're really warm, Mordecai, thanks," she said.

"Nah, don't mention it," he said.

"So, you and Rigby, huh?" She asked, faking a small laugh. His scent had her feeling a bit comfortable.

"Yup," Mordecai said. Hers had him feeling the same.

"So does this mean you're… gay, or whatever?" she asked, trying to make it sound comfortable.

"I don't know. I don't think so… I know I… I like him… I really like him... But I liked you too, it's hard explain."

There was some more silence.

"Have you guys been… like you said…" she began.

"Having sex?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, I dunno, not technically," he moaned, "but pretty close to it. More than I ever did with you."

She rubbed his shoulder and sank into his grip a bit more. She wanted to kiss him, but this time she didn't. She thought real hard about it.

"I always thought you'd… feel a certain way..." Mordecai said, tapping his fingertips against her waist.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah… I was spot on," he chuckled, softly bumping his cheek against hers. He backed away immediately. He could feel a burning in his chest.

She turned toward him, cheeks flustered and heart beating. She smiled and covered her mouth. "It's a thought," she said, "but I… I think I'm okay with you and Rigby."

"That's good," Mordecai laughed.

"Yeah, I mean think about it… we're too obvious you know? Just look at us." She held her arm against his and noted the similarities.

He laughed again. "It would be a bit cliché, huh?"

They looked at each other and smiled peacefully.

"I did like you, you know," she said.

"Well I know that now," he scoffed.

"You're the reason I'm still working at that place," she said, looking away.

"Really?" he said, pushing his head forward and opening his eyes wider.

"Yeah, I was kind of… obsessed with you a little bit," she admitted, smirking and hanging her head low.

"Oh my god, I was obsessed with you too, that's the only reason I ever went to that place," he cackled. "Kind of hilarious if you think about it, dude."

She thought about the word dude for a minute. It didn't feel good to hear it, but she let it sink in.

He noticed her. "Hey," he said, "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

"Ah, I dunno," she sighed. "Just that word."

"What, 'dude'?"

"Yeah…"

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

"It just feels too… comfortable, I dunno."

"It's what I call Rigby," Mordecai laughed. "It's what we call each other, I mean…" He leaned back on his hands. "It's a good thing, Margaret, trust me."

She thought about it for a bit, and arrived at the idea that it was, in fact, a good thing. Maybe. She'd have to give it some time.

* * *

><p>Skips approached the inside-out creature while Fives retrieved his ember. The yeti noticed that the creature's innards were strikingly similar to the goo that had tried to digest Benson.<p>

"Stay back, Benson, I think this is the same stuff," the yeti grumbled.

"Oh don't worry," Benson said, taking a rear step. He tripped on a rock and fell backwards. His arm swung back to catch the floor, but with no hand, his stub sparked and slipped out from under him. His head landed with a loud thud and a crack.

"Fuckin' damnit!" Benson shrieked, turning over and clutching his spider-webbed glass head.

"Ah geez," Skips moaned, quickly arriving at Benson's side to lift him off the ground.

"You okay, bud?"

"No," Benson squinted. "I can't take another hit like that."

"Hey, girl, what's your name," the yeti barked towards Eileen, who was still crying.

"Eileen," she sniffed.

"Eileen, give me your flashlight," Skips said, turning back to Benson.

She slowly waddled her way over with the lantern and handed it to him.

Skips took the flashlight and shined it around the inside of Benson's head.

In the light Benson could see strange things. His candied pieces reflected in all colors, too bright for him to handle in the backs of his eyes. He squinted some more.

"Looks like a piece fell in," the yeti surmised. "Not good."

"Why?" Eileen asked.

"Imagine having a piece of glass lodged in your brain," Skips said, reaching for Benson's lid. "If I may…"

"Please," Benson winced.

Skips lifted Benson's top off and reached inside, gently plucking a splinter of glass out of the man's gumballs. "Of course, most of his parts are replaceable, so it's not as serious as that, but it certainly wouldn't be comfortable."

Benson gasped with relief and relaxed backward a bit. "Oh, thank you."

"Don't mention it," Skips said, examining the area from which the shard fell.

"How does he know so much about you?" Eileen asked, taking back her flashlight.

"I used to be his 'mechanic'," Skips replied, hand still inside the gumball machine's dome.

Benson snickered.

"Why is that funny?" Eileen asked.

"There's some subtext there that they don't want you to know about," Fives said, appearing with his glowing ball.

"Eileen, you got any tape in that pack?" Skips asked, feeling the sharp edges of the new crack.

"I have some medical tape, I think," the mole replied, rummaging through her book bag. She found it, and handed it to Skips.

Skips yanked the loose end of the tape with his teeth and tore off a piece. Then, he applied the piece to the inside of Benson's head to prevent the crack from dropping any more shards. He tore off another piece of tape and applied it to the outside to stop any debris from getting in.

Spot was nearby, petting his creature's whiskers, trying to bring himself and his mount some comfort. He was also absorbing the strange dialects of the angels, trying to figure out what they were going on about.

His centipede looked up at him with glassy eyes that asked, "What are they talking about?"

"Beats me," said Spot's shrugging shoulders.

Spot and the centipede gave their attention to Fives, who hovered miraculously above the other three, oblivious to the world around him.

Spot thought of his people's children, trapped in their crystal prisons. He kicked the ground with anger and his pet nuzzled him to calm him down.

* * *

><p>"So what's it like," Margaret asked, bumping Mordecai with her arm.<p>

"What's what like?" Mordecai asked.

"You know, being with Rigby," she said, coyly.

"Oh," Mordecai blushed. "It's… uh…"

"Just tell me," she begged playfully. "I'm curious, and plus, I think it's cute."

"Well, it's… um… it's great," Mordecai laughed. "It's amazing…"

"What do you guys do?" Margaret asked. There was a tinge of lust in her eyes.

Mordecai blushed again. "Well we… I dunno, I'm not gonna tell you exactly," he said, looking around.

"Is there like, a bottom, or whatever? Is Rigby the bottom?" Margaret asked, eyes brightening.

Mordecai stopped her with his hand and gave a smirk. "Look, I'm sure Rigby will be happy to tell you everything, hell he might even tape it for you," he chuckled.

"Okay, okay, I get it," she said. "So do you know where Rigby is?"

"The mushroom dude does, apparently, but we have to run a couple errands for him first," Mordecai sighed.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot! What the heck is up with that?" she asked. "This place is completely crazy."

"Yeah, he's kind of weird. Seems nice though, he saved our lives a little while ago."

"Thanks for saving mine," Margaret sighed.

"Don't mention it dude," Mordecai smiled.

That word again. It just didn't sit right with her.

He saw it in her face. He got up and gave her a hug.

* * *

><p>Benson got up off the ground slowly with Skips' help.<p>

Eileen shined her flashlight on the writhing blob on the far side of the room.

"Hey, that's the same crud that Margaret and I landed on," she remarked.

"Oh?" Skips asked, lending Benson some of his strength.

"Yeah, we got stuck."

"How'd you get out?" Fives asked from above.

"Water, those things hate water. It's probably why they eat metal," Eileen added.

"They eat metal?" Benson asked with a shiver. "Explains why it didn't hurt you guys but managed to eat through my hand…"

"Oh, yeah, it was digesting your golf cart," Eileen added.

"Aw… that was the fast one, too," Skips groaned.

"Can't imagine how they adapted that way down here, though, there must be a copper mine nearby or something."

"Hey, you're pretty smart, little lady," Skips said with a slight upward lip.

"Thanks, well I mean I'm not that smart," she said shyly.

"Nah, you're smart," Skips chuckled. "Good thing we found you guys, we can use you."

"Thanks," Eileen blushed, not used to flattery.

"Do you think it'll come back if we leave it there?" Benson asked.

"I can't be sure… I've never seen anything like it, to be honest," Eileen said, holding her chin. "Perhaps it's a transient stage of some sort; it seems to have trouble getting around in this form. Odd that it would take on a humanoid shape. Doesn't seem natural."

* * *

><p>Mordecai began his walk of shame back to the group. Margaret was close behind, ready to defend him.<p>

They emerged out of the darkness to find Benson rubbing his head, Skips and Eileen deep in thought and Fives hovering aimlessly. Spot was still in the corner, petting his creature and staring angrily at the writhing blob.

Mordecai was almost disappointed by the lack of uproar.

"You ready to head out?" Skips asked. "Don't want this thing coming back."

"Yeah…" Mordecai mumbled, still awaiting a scolding from the entire party.

"Kay," Skips nodded. Then, he whistled and snapped, getting Spot and the many-legged beast's attention. Skips made a hand motion that told them it was time to go.

Spot looked down at his creature. It looked back up at him with drooped whiskers and beady eyes.

"They look heavy," the creature's face implied.

"I know, I know," Spot said with his comforting hands. "But you'll get through it. Here." He grabbed a piece of himself and placed it at the ground in front of his creature, which gobbled it gratefully and found confidence in its master.

Spot clapped twice and once again, the entire party was scooped up and on their way. Margaret and Eileen hadn't been warned of this method of travel, so the girls screamed appropriately when they flew through the air.

They landed on the critter's back in order of size, with Skips at the back and Eileen at the front. How the creature managed this was beyond all of them.

* * *

><p>Back at the park, things were going relatively smoothly. Don's versatility once again proved itself essential to the park's survival, which was good, because Muscleman and Starla were once again nowhere to be found.<p>

Pops made a couple sandwiches and brought one of them to Don, who was doing some forgotten chore to the best of his ability. He ate the food gratefully and continued cleaning.

Half way through his sandwich, Pops heard his walkie-talkie crackle. He picked it up quickly.

"Pops, it's Skips," it said.

"Oh, jolly good, have you found Rigby yet?" Pops replied.

"Negative. We did find a couple of girls who work at the coffee shop, though."

"Strange," Pops said. "Anyways, things are moving along swimmingly here."

"That's good, Pops," the yeti replied. "Look, I gotta go. Save battery. But one more thing, your dad still got that chopper?"

"His whirly-bird? I believe so, why?"

"We might need it, just keep that in mind. Talk to you later."

* * *

><p>Skips hung up on Pops and turned his attention to the quickly passing rocks and cliffs. They were speeding through a thin tunnel, keeping their heads low to avoid decapitation.<p>

Spot was stroking his creature's whiskers. He was upset; he wanted to find his people's children.

When they met a corner, the train-like bug turned. Mordecai held to Margaret's waist for his and her safety.

Five's amber light glowed and illuminated a new world of ancient images. They were carved deep into the stone and portrayed more violence against the mushroom people.

Spot held his head low to avoid being reminded of the horrors his people had endured.

They came to the exit of the tunnel and were greeted by a palace of glistening obsidian carved into the walls. It extended to the ceiling of the cavern, and it's details reflected in all colors like oil does. Its walls were ancient and degraded, and yet didn't come across as delicate. Quite the contrary; the building was imposing.

Its windows were tall and pointed at the top, like those of cathedrals, and surrounded by pearly white crystal edges that looked sharp and menacing.

They "parked" at the entrance.

Benson wheezed as Skips helped him down from his seat.

"Fives, do you see anything that we might not see?" Skips said, letting go of Benson's hand.

"I'm not sure, how would I know?" Fives asked, peering around.

"Anything look out of the ordinary?" Mordecai asked, helping Margaret down while Eileen slid off and landed on her feet.

"Well… there's a big building right here," Fives said, illuminating it.

"We got that," Skips said. "Anything else?"

"No, just this big gold building," Fives replied.

"Gold?" Mordecai asked. "Dude that thing is black."

"Hmmm," Skips said. "Just like the bridge, this place used to be gold."

"El Dorado," Eileen whispered to herself.

"Wonder what happened to it," Margaret added, adjusting her sweater.

"Who knows…" Mordecai answered.

"I don't think I even want to know… hey!" Benson yelled as Spot started jogging towards the entrance of the dark cathedral.

The mushroom man turned around and gave them a look of disrespect, then continued toward the entrance.

The centipede whined and tilted his head, eyes glazing over as he watched his master disappear into the doorway.

Skips threw the magic ember in the back of his mouth, and he along with the group followed swiftly.

The centipede tried to follow as well, but couldn't fit in the door and could only watch as they faded down the dark hallway.

They walked for a dim eternity. The walls were smooth and featureless, and the hall was thin and claustrophobic. They could hear the mushroom man's footsteps ahead of them. When they finally stopped, they knew they were close to the end.

They stepped out and found themselves in an enormous pocket within the earth, spherical and monstrous.

It was like the inside of a grand ancient pot. Its walls were adorned in meaningless decorative lines that swirled together in wave patterns and swirls.

Way up above was a sliver that let in light from the surface. Below was a seemingly endless tower of purplish crystals that came out of a lake of cool blue water.

Through the semi-transparent shells, they could see that they contained the missing mushroom people. The shear number of them was unsettling.

Spot was against the wall, breathing heavy, mortified.

Fives floated over the water and reached to touch one of the crystals. When Spot saw this, he shrieked like a seagull.

The crystal burst, and a rather lanky mushroom person tumbled out of it, down the other crystals and into the water.

He franticly tried to grab on to the other crystals, but as he pulled himself out, his arm dissolved and he fell back into the water.

Fives gasped and dashed towards the water. He grabbed the man's other hand, but it turned to mush as he pulled. The ghost screamed as the rest of the mushroom person's body dissolved into a white paste.

Spot tossed a spear at Fives, which passed through his body without him noticing. He was stunned, and in tears with guilt.

The others watched the white paste disperse like a flotsam as Fives screamed and cried.

Spot fell to his knees and hit the ground. He had found his people, but they were in a place where they could not be rescued, at least not all of them. They were better off incased, safe from the dissolving properties of the water. He turned back down the hallway.

"Wait!" Skips called out as the man disappeared again.

Spot ignored him.

The yeti dashed as fast as he could, but the mushroom man was moving too fast.

He ran for what seemed like days, and when he arrived back at the entrance, he saw Spot getting ready to mount his creature.

Skips yelled, "Stop!" and grabbed the fungal man by his shoulder lightly.

"I know you probably can't understand me, but listen, we really need you right now," Skips said.

Spot looked down. He couldn't understand the words, but he knew the tone. He petted his centipede's whiskers. The great bug looked up at him and purred gently.

"You can't give up now just because we lost one."

Spot didn't respond.

"You hear me?" Skips said. "I get it, you want to save your people, and we want to save one of our people. We need each other."

The centipede made a puppy-like whine and nuzzled its master.

"I know what it's like," Skips said. "You feel responsible, like you have to carry this big weight." He reached into his pocket and rubbed Benson's severed hand between his thumb and finger.

The mushroom man fell hugged Skips around the waist, much to the yeti's surprise. He was shivering.

"There, there," Skips said, patting the mushroom's head.

* * *

><p>Fives was still panting and watching the paste disperse across the water.<p>

"He… can't be…" the ghost sobbed.

"You couldn't have known, Fives," Benson said.

"But he's dead," Fives quivered. "It's my fault…"

"Fives, dude, it was just the one," Mordecai said.

"Just the one?" Fives barked back. "And what if one of US died, huh? What if Skips died, what if Rigby died? Would it sill be 'just the one'?"

Mordecai digressed and turned his head.

"Never marginalize someone's death," the spirit continued, with a fire in his voice. "You don't know what it's like to die!"

"Fives!" Skips called, re-appearing in the doorway. Spot was on his shoulders.

"What?" Fives spit.

"I know you feel horrible, but if he's willing to help us, you have to be too."

"I killed someone," Fives fired back.

"I know," Skips said. "I know what it's like, too. You just gotta… try to make up for it."

Fives sniffed and coughed while spot climbed down from Skips' shoulders.

The mushroom man offered his hand to the spirit who couldn't control his breathing.

Fives saw the man's hand and approached.

"I'm so sorry," the ghost said in a warble, grabbing the mushroom's hand. There was a light spark between their fingers.

"I forgive you," said a low, wise voice from within Fives' mouth.

Everyone, including Spot, jumped backward in unison.

* * *

><p>The centipede was a docile creature, and despite his size and prowess, was easily spooked, especially without his master. In his head he was nothing without Spot, so when a wandering spider decided to come by, instead of attacking it, he got scared and climbed up a wall.<p>

* * *

><p>It was silent in the underground lake.<p>

"Did he just… did you just…" Mordecai said, pointing at Spot, and then at Fives.

Spot was busy looking at his hands, confused.

Fives reached in again, and Spot grabbed his hand.

"H… hello?" the low voice asked, again coming from Fives' mouth.

A few jaws were slack with disbelief.

"Can you understand me?" Skips asked, stepping forward.

"Well… I can now, apparently," the voice said again. Spot scratched his head.

"Incredible," Eileen said.

"Who are you?" Mordecai asked.

"Who? What is this, 'who'?" the voice asked.

"Well, I'm Mordecai, that's Margaret, he's Skips… what is your name? What are you called?"

"I am called a great hunter, and a healer, and a tamer of beasts, but these other words you mention escape me. I do not have a 'name'."

"Huh," Mordecai said.

"How old is this place?" Benson asked. "What's the…"

"Wait, wait wait," Spot said. "I have just as many questions as you do, give me a chance."

"He gets one, then we get one," Skips added. "Seems fair."

"What is heaven like?" the mushroom man asked.

"Heaven?" Margaret asked with a laugh.

"Your people come from up above, yes?" Spot added. "What's it like up there?"

"Oh, hm," Eileen said. "It's brighter, you can see the sky, and it smells a bit better…"

"Sounds amazing," Spot said, looking up towards the distant crack in the roof of the cavern.

"It's hardly amazing," Margaret sighed. "It's definitely not 'heaven', as you put it."

"Is there as much death and sadness up there as there is here?" Spot asked.

"Maybe even more," Benson sighed.

"I see," said Spot, more disappointed than they could have known.

"So what's going on down here? How old is this place?" Benson asked.

"Beats me," Spot said. "They say that everything's been black ever since the darklings showed up, but I wasn't alive when they came, and neither were my grandparents."

"The darklings are the things that have been attacking us, right?" Skips asked.

"Yes," Spot replied. "They haven't always been that way… they say that they were once angels like you guys. They came here in search of riches, but they found something down here that changed them."

"How does the transformation work?" Eileen asked. "The one from earlier was tall, and had arms and legs."

"That's where the crystals come in," Spot sighed. "They trap us and fill us with the ooze. It infects us from the inside and transforms us into those… things. We're a dying race. The only reason why they haven't killed all of us is they need fresh bodies in order to reproduce."

"Does the creature have anything to do with this?" Benson asked.

"The one that has your friend?" Spot asked.

Mordecai nodded.

"Doubtful," Spot said. "He hasn't been here too long, just a couple days. Some of their carvings depict warship of a similar monster, but it supposedly ascended many, many years ago."

"Sorry to interrupt," Mordecai said, "but do you know where Rigby is?"

"I do," Spot replied.

"What are the chances that he's…" Mordecai gulped, "dead?"

"Low. If the creature wanted him dead, he wouldn't have brought him down here alive."

"Can we go see him…" Mordecai began.

"No, Mordecai, we had a deal," Benson interjected. "We have to save his people."

"But we can't," Mordecai sighed.

"Never say that word around me," Benson said. "Fives, there's gotta be a way to get them out of there without touching the water."

"We could try taking them to shore and then releasing them," Skips said.

"No," Fives said, letting go of Spot's hand. "The crystals are stuck together, and besides, they'd be too heavy even if they weren't."

"We're in a building, right?" Margaret interrupted. "That means someone made this pool, maybe there's a drain somewhere."

"Hm…" Skips said. "Anyone here a good swimmer?"

Margaret reluctantly raised her hand.

"Margaret, don't," Eileen said, grabbing her other arm.

"She's right," Benson said. "It looks dark, and who knows what's down there."

"There's gotta be another way…" Skips began.

Everyone was startled to hear a sudden splash.

"Damnit," Eileen said, running over to the edge of the pool with her flashlight. She shined it down and saw Margaret swimming deeper into the murky water through the fresh ripples of entry.

The water was frigid, even more so than Margaret had expected. She found that the walls were smooth and covered in some kind of algae, so she swam downward whilst clinging to them, hoping to find some kind of mechanism to drain the water. Her arm hit something worn and wooden.

When her breath felt low, she swam back to the surface. She was met by remarks of concern when she appeared.

"What are you, crazy?" Eileen shouted over Margaret's gasps for air.

"I think…" Margaret wheezed, "I think I found it."

"Dude, get out of the water, you have no idea what's down there!" Mordecai shouted.

Margaret ignored them and dove back in.

There was another splash somewhere on the other side of the pool.

"Oh no," Skips said, too quiet for anyone to hear.

Eileen followed Margaret with her flashlight.

The girl disappeared into the murky water, below the penetrating flashlight's influence. Behind her, an awful, inky, black shapeless form followed, wriggling unnaturally.

"What in god's earth is that thing?" Benson shrieked.

Margaret heard bubbling screams up above, but only faintly. She was determined to find the handle that she had felt before.

It shot towards her, with its gaze on her exposed legs. Digestive lubricants began to leak from its maw.

She found the lever, but it would not move, so she grabbed it with both hands and placed her feet against the wall.

She pulled and pulled as the unseen monstrosity circled her.

Just as it lunged at her head, the lever gave to her grasp.

A loud mechanism croaked and creaked within the deepest chambers of the cavern. It shook the entire room, rippling the water and causing Benson to almost topple over.

The monster that was lurking felt the pull of the water before she did. As it was about to attack her, it was sucked away into the depths. Then, Margaret felt her feathers take on some turbulence.

She almost let go of the lever, but when she felt the drag of the water she grabbed on tighter. The water drained violently, swirling towards the bottom and disappearing beneath the mass of crystals. Her hands slipped a bit. She slid down the aged wooden handle.

As the level of the water sank, the moss on the walls made itself known. It was black and furry. It shook with disapproval when it was no longer submerged.

An enormous, crusty barnacle showed its beak through the moss. It belched and unsheathed its speared tentacle.

Margaret was beginning to lose strength. The rushing water was trying its best to tear her from safety, and the black moss creature on the wall seemed extremely upset. It screeched at her from above.

When the water swirled past her neck and revealed her head, the volume changed. She could suddenly hear a mix of screams, commands and roars all around her. She breathed in heavy and shimmied up the slippery handle as much as she could. She couldn't tell her friends' voices from the monsters'.

She heard her name.

"Margaret, hold on!" Mordecai shouted.

The water drained passed her ankles, and suddenly, she was suspended above a seemingly endless pit filled with writhing black horrors. She screeched with fright at the sounds of the wall beasts.

The water far down below gargled as the last drops left the great bowl. Then, the giant collective of crystals started to teeter. The hard shell moaned as it pivoted on its axis, grinding into the stone below. It was collapsing towards her.

Mordecai acted fast. "Skips, grab my legs!" he shouted.

Skips nodded with a grunt and complied. He took the next step without Mordecai even saying anything and dangled the blue bird over the edge.

"Margaret!" he yelled, reaching out for her. She clung to the handle with her arms and breast, and as soon as she reached for his hand, she slid down again, nearly falling.

Skips watched the crystal mass swaying toward them, and knew that it would fall on all three of them soon.

"Hurry up, kid!" Skips yelled, gripping the stone ground with his toes and bending his knees.

"Margaret, grab my hand!" Mordecai shouted, eying the collapsing central structure.

"I can't!" she yelled, clinging to the slippery piece of wood.

The slime on the wall behind him reached out and grabbed him by the stomach. It screeched, as did he.

"You have to try!" Mordecai screamed, batting away the glob with his free hand.

Margaret siphoned all of her might and yanked at the handle, volleying herself upward and letting go.

Mordecai snatched her hand.

"I got her!" he shouted up to Skips, who immediately pulled back on the two as the crystal came crashing into the wall, smashing the algae-like monster that clung to it.

Mordecai, Margaret and Skips all panted in a pile as the death screeches from the monster died down.

"You could've been killed," Mordecai wheezed, lifting his head off of Skips' chest. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Stop it, Mordecai," Skips said.

"I… said… I… would help you guys…" Margaret said between breaths. "And… I… did."

Fresh snot dripped from her nostrils. She was shivering.

Eileen stroked her head, trying to brush away her lingering trauma. "Aw, pumpkin…"

Margaret burst into tears and accepted her friend's comforting hands.

"You were so brave, Margaret…" the shorter girl cooed.

"Well," Benson said, "That solves the water problem."

Skips tried to get up, but realized that he was being used as a couch. He sighed and settled in for the long haul.

Fives approached the crystal, but Spot ran to him and caught his hand.

"It's quite the drop," the mushroom man said through the spirit's mouth. "Let's just think about this for a second."

Fives let go and said, "Right… think. I gotta think more."

"Why do you say that?" Spot said, grabbing Fives' hand. "Just out of curiosity."

"I'm not really all that… focused, if you didn't notice," Fives replied. "I… I killed your friend because I wasn't thinking," the ghost sighed. "And I have to live with that."

"Don't worry about that," Spot said. "Yes, he is dead, but he's no longer trapped. You of all people should know that death is not the end."

"I still feel awful…" Fives crooned.

"Don't. We've lost countless men and women to these things," Spot said. "It hurts to see another one go, but he wasn't the first, and surely won't be the last. Now think about that structure. If you carve out the middle, you can tunnel all the way to the bottom and let them out safely. Start there."

Fives let go and did what the mushroom man said. He tapped the crystals closest to the middle of the cluster and tunneled through the thing, letting out the countless prisoners. They crawled past him through the hollowed structure instinctively, and Spot instructed them to wait outside.

Fives took a moment to look at the basin of the drained pool. It was moldy, and still quite wet. Any of the mushrooms that touched the floor would surely melt away.

Fives returned to Spot. "Now what?" he asked, grabbing the mushroom man's hand.

"The topmost crystals can be destroyed next," Spot said, pointing to the top layer of the crystal tunnel.

"And what about the ones on bottom?" Fives asked.

"They will have to be freed in a different manner."

"Okay," Fives nodded, returning to his work.

The mushrooms in the upper crystals fell when they were released, sliding a bit but catching themselves on the walls. Then, they climbed up the shoot as the others before them did.

Eileen continued comforting her friend as the countless mushroom men walked past.

Skips grumbled softly, unable to move, as did Mordecai.

Fives returned to Spot after freeing the last one from the top layer.

"Okay, so what about the other half?" the spirit asked, grabbing Spot's hand.

"Yes… regretfully, we cannot save them," Spot said solemnly.

"Wait… excuse me, what?" Fives asked.

"I didn't want to have to ask you this… but you know as well as I do that if you hit any one of those, the entire structure will collapse," Spot grieved.

"We can't just leave them there," Fives said sternly.

"That's not what I was suggesting," Spot answered in a sad tone.

"Wait… you can't… you aren't suggesting that we let them go?" Fives asked with disbelief.

"It is the only way," Spot said. "Better that then to leave them, trapped for an eternity."

"I can't!" Fives shouted.

"You must," Spot replied.

Margaret got up to witness the commotion, and Skips and Mordecai sighed brotherly sighs of relief. They had been touching for far too long.

The site of Fives changing expression and mouthing Spots lines was jarring and a bit unsettling for the group.

"There are dozens of innocent lives in there…" Fives said.

"If they are innocent, then they will ascend," Spot rebutted.

"I'm not going to kill them!"

"Spirit," Spot whispered.

Fives drooped his lip and stopped arguing.

"This is the only way. You don't have to watch. Just hit the one on the end, fate will take care of the rest."

Fives let go of the mushroom man's hand and slowly approached the tip of the structure that held to ledge of the empty pool.

He peered into the transparent shell and saw the frightened face of a petrified, young child, frozen in his worst moment.

He stared into its expression for many tormented seconds. Then, he reluctantly brought his hand against the crystal and grabbed the boy by the hand.

He yanked the boy away from the collapsing structure and turned away as the sounds of thousands of glass pains shattering rang out from below, destroying every trace of the dozens of imprisoned men and women.

The confused child sprinted out the tunnel from whence the group had entered as Fives breathed heavily, trying to dispel the shear number of people he had just demolished.

Spot waddled to his side and grabbed his hand.

"You did the right thing, spirit," he said in a soothing tone.

Fives looked down at the pit and saw the results of his actions. A fine, pink crystal dust lined the majority of the pool. The smashed people were pulverized to pollen, which was slowly rising as spores up the chamber.

"Don't look," Spot said, tugging him away from the nightmarish vision. "Just know that you saved them. All of them, in one way or another."

Fives grumbled and a tear left his eye.

"You see the hole, up there, to the up-above?" Spot asked, pointing to the dimly lit crack in the ceiling. "That's where the spores are headed. They will settle up there, in your world, and be reborn. Come, let us leave this place."

Spot led the group into the tunnel, and when they emerged on the other side they found a small campfire. The surviving people had set up a camp, using parts from the lingering spider as fuel.

Spot's pet greeted them gleefully as they arrived through the entrance.

The survivors slowly got up and danced silently together at the sight of Spot's return. Then, they sat back down as if they hadn't noticed.

* * *

><p>Back at the park, the sky was dimming.<p>

Pops was inside, preparing a late dinner, and Don was at the table, feeling rather sleepy.

It was a warm, breezy night, and the windows were all open to let in the floral smells from the outside. The air permeated Don's fur and rustled it softly.

He sighed, sipping his cool drink and thinking of his brother.

"He'll be fine," Pops whispered in an assuring tone, plopping a very foreign looking dish in front of the somber raccoon.

It smelled good, despite the fact that Don had never seen anything like it.

He took a bite, which he enjoyed, but then he lost his appetite. He dropped his spoon into the dish and pushed it away.

"I assure you, it is not poisonous," Pops grinned.

"Feh," Don responded, crossing his arms and burying his muzzle into them.

"Now now," Pops said, "I know you're worried, but you worked hard today. It's important to eat."

Don groaned again.

"There may be ice cream in the freezer," Pops grinned, turning red and covering his mouth. "Desert is for people who finish their dinner…"

Don looked down at his plate for a good minute. Then, he grabbed his spoon and started shoveling the stuff into his mouth.

* * *

><p>It was dark once again, save for the glowing embers of the once roaring fire and the dim brilliance of Fives' effervescent skin, which still concealed the magical flame.<p>

Skips, Benson, Mordecai, Margaret and Eileen were all resting peacefully while Fives watched. The Mushroom people were also sprawled out on the ground, in deep sleep.

The ghost hovered off to some distant rock to do some thinking, leaving the resting grounds slightly dimmer than before.

Margaret shivered on the ground and opened her eyes. She was still pretty wet from the swim.

Mordecai turned attractively in his sleep. His chest feathers looked dry to her, even in the dark.

She scooted quietly across the cold stone ground and into him.

His eyes peeled open, and he saw the red tips of her hair.

"I'm cold," she whispered with the slightest tinge of embarrassment in her throat.

"Oh, right," Mordecai said, wrapping his arms around her. "Can't have you freezing on us."

She brought her shoulders closer together and nested in his warmth.

"Is that good?" the blue jay asked, adjusting himself to accommodate her.

"Yeah, it's good. It's perfect," Margaret said, letting the warmth pierce her tired skin.

They laid in silence for a good while, breathing calmly.

"Mordecai?" she asked, wanting to tell him something.

He responded with a quiet snore. In his sleep, he let go of her and turned on his other side, leaving her in the cold again.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him.

Her eyes closed, and she dreamed of the surface, and of a place where she and Mordecai could be together.

It wasn't so cold after all.

* * *

><p><em>Author's notes:<em>

Long delay on this one again, sorry about that.

If you haven't been on my tumblr, now is the time. I just received a colossal piece of fan art that encompasses pretty much everything up until this point in the story. I honestly cried when I got it, it was so beautiful and it really touched my heart.

Also, Wednesday has finally come to a close. Ended up being a three-parter.

Music that helped inspire this chapter would be the song Lichen by Aphex twin. It's a bittersweet composition, really makes me tear up every time I hear it.

Comments and PM's always appreciated, thank you for your continued subscription to this story. You all mean the world to me.

Until next time.


	18. Thursday, August 11th

A thin wisp of white specks floated on a light breeze over green hills in the world above, causing many lesser creatures to sneeze and rub their eyes. Some landed in trees and rooted themselves immediately, letting their spores release into the bark.

Down below, the red feathered one clung to the one she fell in love with while the spirit thought hard about the ones he had sacrificed, floating around in the world above.

A deep sadness tore into Margaret. He was nice enough to let her cling, but she knew he would never cling back. Even in her sleep she knew this to be true.

Mordecai slept soundly with her wings around his waist.

Skips sat cross-legged, not quite asleep. He watched Benson rest. The gumball machine's cracked and damaged head sat on Eileen's backpack, which was the softest alternative to the rocky ground.

They all missed their beds.

A pleasant fire kept the cold air at bay. Spot stayed awake to make sure it did not go out.

**Thursday, August 11th**

It was morning on the surface, but the sun didn't show. It was cloudy and dim. The faint and distant sound of thunder could be heard from Pops' room.

His eyes shot open and his mustache curled down. He hid his large head under his blankets and shivered in a cold fear. Pops was never fond of thunder.

He heard a knock on his door. Rigby's older brother peaked his black-tipped nose in the door and called to Pops.

"Hey, boss? It's getting kind of late…"

"Yes, yes," Pops said, looking at the clock, slightly embarrassed. It was 11 am. "I'm getting up."

Pops appeared out of his bed in a light-blue striped one-piece footie pajama. He trembled as the thunder rolled through the window again, and hopped back under his covers.

"You okay?" Don asked.

"I'm fine… just the thunder, it's always scared me since I was a boy."

"Ah," the raccoon said. "I made some food, if you're interested."

"I don't think I'll leave my bed today," Pops said. "There probably won't be anyone in the park today."

"You gotta at least get out of bed," Don said with a smile. "Look, we all get scared sometimes. C'mon, come eat."

* * *

><p>A few drops of water tapped at the trunk of an old tree as the thunder rolled overhead. The spores shook at the prospect of moisture and released puffs of white into the surrounding leaves.<p>

Some of them were lifted by the sudden surge of water to be drained from the tree to take root down below at the base.

* * *

><p>Margaret smacked her lips and awoke with the taste of filth. She hadn't brushed in a while. She could hear water coming from the tunnel.<p>

Her face was buried in Mordecai's back, who was slowly waking up himself.

There was a rhythm in the air. The Mushroom folk were awake and using their bodies for percussion. The thumping was soft and catchy.

"What's going on?" Benson groaned, awaking from a not-so-deep sleep. His head was still pounding from his injuries.

"Dunno," Skips said, startling Benson. The yeti was sitting cross-legged, knees touching the gumball machine's chassis. "But they've been planning something for a while."

A few of them ran off somewhere for a moment and returned with some colored bulbs from a plant that the group had not yet seen.

They brought the bulbs above their heads and smashed them at their feet, spilling out an orange inky paste onto the stone.

They dipped their fingers in it and applied it to each other's faces. The illustrations were frightening and their skin made the paint glow.

They motioned to Skips, inviting him to be painted next. He sighed, shrugged, and made his way to the inner circle.

They painted crude wings on his back, made his eyes bigger and gave him fangs, before motioning to Mordecai.

The blue jay reluctantly shuffled over and was sat down. They soaked his fingertips and drew a heart across his chest. They gave him a third eye and kicked him out of the circle, motioning for Benson to come next.

The gumball machine refused, but Skips chuckled and forced him to submit to the ceremony.

They covered Benson in tiny, detailed gears. They were gentle, recognizing his injuries. They gave him a pat on the back to let him know that they had finished and beckoned Margaret to join them.

The orange paint didn't stand out as well against her red feathers, so they focused on the white parts of her face, giving her little triangles that almost touched.

"It looks like a beard," Eileen chuckled as Margaret returned.

"Oh ha, ha," Margaret mocked. "You're up next, bub."

Eileen gulped. "M… Me? I don't like being touched…"

"Oh just go," Margaret laughed, shoving Eileen into the group of mushroom people.

The girl looked around at their frightening painted faces for a moment before closing her eyes. They descended on her and painted up a storm, covering her face with an entire battle scene and covering her arms with serpents.

She stumbled away from the crowd, shivering, but not feeling too bad.

Fives appeared from the dark, glowing as he usually did.

The mushroom men became ecstatic and beckoned him. Confused as he was, he followed their arms and landed in their midst.

They tried painting on him, but the stuff slid off of his plasmatic skin. They looked at the drips, confused.

He shrugged and joined his decorated friends, who didn't comment on his previous absence.

Spot appeared on his steed, which was looking rather happy.

He hopped off. Pieces of his head were missing.

"What happened?" Skips asked, approaching the man.

Spot tried to talk, forgetting that he needed his translator. His arms moved about as though he were explaining himself.

Fives came to him to allow him to speak.

"Ah. Better. Just went out for a morning ride is all," Spot remarked, petting his creature. "I see you've been painted."

"But… your face," Margaret said, pointing at the missing pieces.

"What?" Spot asked, touching his head. "Oh… oh dear."

"They're supposed to grow back, aren't they?" Eileen asked.

"They are supposed to, yes. Ah, well," Spot sighed.

"Why aren't they?" Benson asked.

"Age, I suppose," Spot said, still feeling the missing pieces. His creature rubbed up against him, begging for food. He sighed and ripped off a piece of himself. It didn't grow back.

"Stop, are you crazy?" Fives shouted, grabbing the piece and trying to force it back into its hole. It settled and then fell out, landing on the ground with a pathetic squish.

"He has to eat, spirit," Spot said.

Fives cringed as the centipede gobbled the piece of fungus off the ground.

"Okay," Spot said, changing the subject. "You want your friend, you helped me, now I will help you."

Mordecai's ears perked up at Rigby's mention. "Yes, help us, please," he said, bordering on rude.

The centipede growled at the blue jay, and Spot calmed it down.

"Hold your horses, Mordecai, yeesh," Skips said with a bit of disdain.

"Let's cut to the chase then," Spot said. "We have a nice little army here, you want your friend back? Let's go get him."

"Just like that?" Mordecai asked a bit surprised.

"Yeah," Spot said, hopping on his creature.

"We don't have to go right this second," Mordecai said, a tad fearful.

"Why not?" Spot asked. "It's what you've been waiting for, isn't it?

It was what he'd been waiting for. That was the truth of it. But, because he had been waiting, he hadn't faced the many possibilities of what might happen when they confronted the monster.

"Blue Bird," Spot said. "Are you listening? We shall go now. Time is our campfire, burning to ember as we wait. You see?"

The flames were growing dim under the oppressive chill of the cavern.

Spot made a call like a loon, and his fellow mushroom people lined up behind him, spears at hand.

The group reluctantly made their way onto the centipede's back and nodded to each other, ready to finally face what they had been searching for.

* * *

><p>Rigby stretched his arms and rubbed the back of his neck.<p>

"Feeling better?" a voice said.

"Yeah… a little bit," he replied.

"They're coming, you know," the voice added.

Rigby stood silently, looking at his feet.

"Look, little one," the voice said. "They want you back. They… I don't think they will leave without you."

"They're gonna have to," Rigby grimaced.

"Why?"

Rigby groaned.

"I know the blue one broke your heart, little one, but…"

"But nothing. I'm staying."

The voice gave a sigh. "Alright…"

* * *

><p>They rode once more. The confidence they had slowly built over their journey was now waning.<p>

Margaret held Mordecai around his mid section and enjoyed his warmth while she could. Behind them, the rest of the mushroom people sprinted at a steady pace, shaking their spears and making strange birdcalls.

A rotten smell filled the air as they drew closer to their target.

They arrived at a grotto. A thin moat surrounded a wrecked temple whose columns had crumbled long ago.

The centipede skidded to a halt as the rest of the mushroom people caught up behind them.

Spot raised his arm. Everyone was calm.

They all eyed the water with some fear, and then they heard a beastly groan.

"It's him," Skips said.

"Rigby!" Mordecai shouted, jumping off the creature's back.

"Stop!" Benson shouted.

Mordecai didn't listen until he arrived at the moat.

"Oh. It seems they've arrived," a loud, calm voice rang out from within the darkened temple.

"Give us back our friend!" Mordecai shouted.

There was a period of silence that seemed immeasurable. The creature slithered quietly into view.

"Give him back?" the monster whispered. "You imply that I took him away from you."

"You did take him you piece of trash," Skips shouted, getting off the centipede.

"Make no mistake, father, I did not take your friend. He came to me seeking refuge."

"Father?" Skips scoffed with a cocked eye.

"Ah yes, you seem to not remember," the monster said. He sounded a bit sad. "I do appreciate what you did for me. You have good instincts… a kind, nurturing heart."

Skips didn't know what to say, so he didn't.

"And Benson, oh Benson. It seems the depths have proved near fatal for you. It's too bad, really. You don't deserve that," the monster added with a genuine sympathy in his voice.

"I know what you're trying to do," Mordecai shouted. "It's not gonna work on me."

"Oh, and Mordecai… Let's not forget the ever loyal Mordecai."

"I told you, shuttup! Rigby! Don't listen to this thing, if you can hear me, say something!"

"He can hear you, blue one," the monster sighed.

"What did you do to him," Mordecai shouted. "Let me see him, prick!"

"No need for name calling," the monster said.

Then, there were quiet footsteps. Everyone could hear them.

"Ah. There's our little champ," the monster sighed, this time with more enthusiasm.

The short raccoon appeared from the darkness, neck slouched and arms drooping.

"Rigby!" Mordecai screamed. He jumped into the water and began to paddle as hard as he could toward the other shore.

The creature sighed and scooped Mordecai out of the water gently, placing him back where he started. Mordecai slapped away the tentacle as it retreated back towards its master.

"He's walking again," the monster whispered with tears in his eyes. "He couldn't even move when I found him, and look at that, he's up and about."

Rigby coughed and fell over on his side.

"Oh, no no no," the monster said with a quick breath, lifting Rigby by his collar and placing him gently at his feet. "All better, right?"

The raccoon was silent.

"Rigby!" Mordecai shouted once again.

The raccoon winced at the sound of his name.

"Rigby, c'mon, run!"

"I'm not coming," Rigby said.

Everyone was quiet.

The monster shifted awkwardly to the side, holding his arms near his core nervously.

"N… not coming?" Mordecai asked quietly. "Rigby…"

"Go home, guys," Rigby shouted. His voice was guttural and hurt. A tear fell, and he coughed on his own spit.

"Why?" Mordecai asked. His face started feeling hot with rage.

"Because fuck all of you, that's why," Rigby barked.

"Oh… I knew this would happen," the monster quivered.

"Fuck all of us?" Benson shouted, finally sliding off the centipede with the rest of his friends. "Fuck all of us, you say?"

"Benson, stop," Skips said, offering his arm.

Benson slapped it away with his stub-arm.

"No, Skips, not this time," Benson growled.

Skips held his arms up and offered the floor to the steaming gumball machine.

"Alright, Rigby, well… well fuck you too," Benson shouted. "We risked our lives for you, I lost my goddamn hand for you, and that's all you have to say?"

Rigby closed his eyes at the remarks.

"We didn't hesitate, didn't go back to the park for extra food or nothing! We didn't even expect to find you and we came, just on the whim that you might be alive, and that we might be able to save you, and that's all you have to say to us? To me?"

Rigby started turning around.

"Don't you turn your goddamn back on me, Rigby," Benson continued shouting. "You think you're the only one who's ever been hurt? You're just gonna run away from your whole life and rot down here in this fucking cave until you die?"

The raccoon clenched his fists and started turning back towards the group.

"Benson, that's enough," Skips said.

"Far from it," Benson barked.

"You don't know what I went through," Rigby gritted through his teeth. "So don't tell me what I am. I'm not running away from anything."

"You are running!" Benson screamed. He grew angry enough to grab a stone and chuck it across the moat. Rigby flinched to the side to avoid it. "Your friend loves you! And you're just gonna throw that away?"

"Shh shh shh… guys… guys c'mon," the monster attempted meekly at ending the scuffle. He groaned a bit.

Mordecai stood idle, trying to feed his disappointment with some kind of resolve. He couldn't find one. He felt sweat building on his forehead.

"Alright maybe I am running, but so what? What do I have to go back to?" Rigby shouted.

"A job, a friend who would do anything for you and a goddamn family that loves you enough to risk their lives to save yours!" Benson screamed, stamping his feet.

"F… family?" Rigby guttered. "You d…don't know my family."

"Don't you get it?" Benson yelled. "We are your fucking family!"

"STOP!" the monster howled.

They did.

"That's enough, all of you!" it continued. "I've tried being diplomatic but you guys are all very unhealthy for each other…"

"Hey!" Skips yelled in his own defense.

"Well is it not true?" the monster asked.

"Who's to say what's healthy and what isn't?" Skips barked.

"I'm just stating what I've observed… I mean, with all do respect, you have killed him before," the monster said with reason. "That's worse than anything I ever did to him."

"How do you know that?" Skips asked.

"His memories are mine," the monster said. "I also know his touch," it continued, pointing at Mordecai. "I was present the first time you two were intimate… you express yourself very well, at least physically, blue one."

The blue jay suddenly felt a steaming embarrassment.

"Oh, he loved it, I promise you that he did," the monster continued. "Such tenderness… you were always a little bit afraid, though, wouldn't touch him where he needed it the most."

"Shut up!" Mordecai shouted. "Shut up, now!"

"Why?" it asked. "I'm only telling you what he wanted you to know, but was too afraid to say."

"He can speak for himself!" Mordecai yelled.

"No, Mordecai, that's the thing," the monster said. "He cannot speak for himself, not with the boundaries you've developed… certain things were always off limits… physical contact, talking about your feelings…"

"Things are different now, we can talk about anything…"

"No, Mordecai, they aren't that different. Just because you let him pleasure you doesn't mean things are different. You wouldn't even say the three words he wanted to hear the most…"

"Cut it out!"

"Even when you did feel them, you wouldn't say them, because you were afraid."

Mordecai bolted for the moat again, but this time didn't even make it into the water. He tripped over a carefully placed tendril and hit his temple against the cold ground.

"This is going nowhere," Skips groaned. "Hey! All right, so he wants to stay! That's fine, but what about the boy's soul?"

"His soul?" the monster asked.

"You took part of his soul! If he's gonna live down here, he at least needs to be intact, that's why he couldn't move, that's why he's deteriorating."

"I did not TAKE, father. It's something that happened. He swallowed my seed, his soul was the only thing it could bind to."

"Who cares?" Skips yelled. "You have to give it back to him! If you feel any sort of sympathy for him, you will let him have what is his!"

"Hm…" the monster pondered. "This is where we have a problem. You see… I don't have a soul, myself. That piece is the only thing keeping me alive."

"But it's not complete, without a complete soul, you'll deteriorate too!" Skips shouted.

"I'm aware. I was counting on it, actually. I was going to deteriorate with him, or at least until one of us died, at which point the other would inherit the rest of his soul."

"You can't do that to him," Benson screamed.

"It's no worse than what he did," the monster said, pointing to the slowly recovering blue jay, peeling him self off the floor.

"You're a fucking loser," Mordecai coughed.

"Well then we're at a bit of a crossroads then, aren't we?" the monster whispered. "Do you plan to kill me?"

"You bet," Benson shouted.

The monster gave a disappointed "oh. I see." Then, he turned to Rigby and placed a gentle tentacle on his shoulder. "Little one… I… I'm sorry. I wanted to reason with them."

The tentacle scratched his chin, and Rigby responded by lifting his neck.

"I need you to run for me, little one, can you do that?"

Rigby's eyes drooped and he nodded, then he bolted into the darkness behind them.

"Mordecai," the monster said calmly. "If you love him, I suggest you go after him. I don't know what he'll do when he reaches the cliff. He mentioned how painless it would be the other day…"

Mordecai's eyes shot open and he raced toward the moat, clearing it and seconds and appearing on the other side.

The beast untangled its web of tendrils so that he could pass and pursue Rigby.

"As for the rest of you," the monster continued. "I can't say that I want to die, but if it must be, then so be it." It reached for a large boulder that was nearby and picked it up, examining it in the air. "But, in all truth, I don't particularly want to die. Not without a host body."

Spot readied his spear in hand.

"I will not go easy," the beast announced, whipping his tendril and launching the boulder into the group.

Skips lept out of the way, and there were some casualties among the ranks of the mushroom people, who shattered like the soft toadstools that they were. Small bits of fungus decorated Margaret and Eileen's faces as they sprinted away in terror.

Mordecai's legs fell over each other in a frigid sprint and carried him for hundreds of yards. It was almost too dark to see, save for some dim fungal bulbs that lit the tunnel a faint green glow.

His toe banged into a sharp rock sticking out of the ground, but his adrenaline wouldn't let him feel it. It tore through his skin as though it didn't matter.

The mushrooms passed like stars, whooshing past and refracting off the tears in his eyes. He could barely see.

All he could do was breath. The air entered his aching lungs and left through the mucus in his throat as a wheeze.

He came to the end of the tunnel and felt a chill breeze cut between his feathers. There was an edge. He stamped his feet down and slid to a stop.

He looked around for Rigby, but the raccoon was nowhere to be found.

He looked over the edge and heard a distant scream.

"No!" he screamed, backing away. "No!"

A flash of brown came from his side and the scream came closer.

Mordecai felt a sharp pain in his neck and a pair of teeth close around his shoulder.

* * *

><p>Spot's centipede wrapped itself around Margaret and Eileen, protecting them. Dozens of spears flew through the dark sky and were torn apart before they could reach their target.<p>

The monster brought up one of its larger tentacles and brought it down over the heads of the crowd.

It came down with a force that tore through Benson's glass head and into the stone below him. Colored spheres shot in all directions as the gumball machines limp, shattered head lay in peaces on the cold ground.

Skips heard glass shattering and felt a feeling in his throat that he had almost forgotten.

* * *

><p>"You shouldn't have come!" Rigby shouted as he brought his claw across Mordecai's cheek. A few red drops flung to the side and splattered against the ground.<p>

Mordecai grabbed Rigby's arms and the raccoon struggled. The blue jay looked all around Rigby's soiled face, unsure of what to do. He desperately pulled Rigby towards him with an open mouth and kissed him deep until he felt sharp teeth close around his own soft tongue.

"Ah!" Mordecai shouted as another claw dug into his face. "Rigby I'm sorry!"

"I don't care!" Rigby screamed.

Mordecai managed to push his friend off of him and pin him to the ground. "I just want to help you!" he shouted.

Rigby squirmed and spit in Mordecai's eye. "I don't want your freakin' help!" The raccoon brought his knee against Mordecai's stomach, which the blue jay accepted with little wincing.

The look on his face could only hint at his regrets. Mordecai lifted his friend and hugged him while receiving punches to the temple and a claw in his back.

Mordecai didn't care. He just wanted one last touch. He rubbed his face against his friend's while the pain of Rigby's onslaught finally made itself known in his skin.

* * *

><p>"Benson!" the yeti screamed, arriving at his friend's cold body. The world around him was mute. He couldn't notice the many being torn apart all around him.<p>

"Benson… oh god Benson… it's gonna be alright…"

The yeti sniffed back the clear snot that was pouring over his lips and began stuffing the many stray gumballs into his pockets desperately. They had a slight buzz to them.

"Oh my god," Fives gasped, noticing Benson's shattered head.

Skips began quivering through his throat when he couldn't fit anymore of the gumballs into his pockets. He was the type to hold it all in, but this would prove too difficult, even for him.

He stood, found a discarded spear on the ground, and let out a roar that made everyone else sound silent. The spear traveled through the air like a bullet, slicing through the many tentacles that tried to stop it.

* * *

><p>"Ow… agh…" Mordecai sighed, holding his friend as hard as he could. He needed to feel him, even if he could only do so in pain.<p>

Rigby's strikes became less and less powerful. The raccoon's energy was fading fast.

"You did this to me!" Rigby grumbled, finally giving up and embracing his friend. He buried his face into Mordecai's shoulder and wet it all the way through.

Mordecai closed his arms around his friend's back.

"It was my fault… I'm sorry, I swear to god I am," Mordecai said, pressing his forehead against his friend's.

Rigby gripped tighter. "I wanted you so bad..."

Mordecai scratched Rigby a bit. "You can still have me, man."

"You threw me away," Rigby said, bringing his fist down like a gentle hammer against Mordecai's chest.

"I know I did, Rigby, I just… I'm sorry, more sorry than anyone could be," Mordecai said, brushing the wetness out of Rigby's eye with his thumb. "I just… I can't do it without you, I can't."

Mordecai stared into his friend's eyes. They vibrated and leaked, then looked away.

"Rigby, look at me, please…"

"Mordecai… I… I –" Rigby was stopped suddenly. A dot of red appeared in the middle of his chest and started to grow. Rigby's spine arched backward.

* * *

><p>Skips gave a primal roar as his spear penetrated the monster's body.<p>

The monster lurched backward and screamed like a child. It flailed and sloppily wrapped its arms around the handle of the spear. With great difficulty, the monster tore the weapon out of its body. Its liquid sprayed out in a wide mist. It brought its arm against the water and splashed all of it out over the mushroom people.

* * *

><p>Mordecai's face was immediately covered in hot blood that stung his eyes. He started screaming.<p>

Rigby's arm searched his own body for the hole and tried to cover the blood flow.

"Wha-… what's going? Oh god… Rigby," Mordecai sputtered, holding his friend out in front of him.

Rigby lost the strength to hold his arm against his own chest and it dropped to his side.

Mordecai quickly replaced his friend's hand with his own, and it became purple, soaked with his friend's hot gushing blood. He tilted Rigby's head towards him and saw the fear in his eyes.

Neither knew what caused the injury.

Mordecai threw Rigby over his shoulder and applied pressure to the raccoon's back. Then, he ran back toward the screams he heard coming from the tunnel.

* * *

><p>The half-melted mushroom people struggled to regain their footing while their bodies grew back. Some were too damaged to survive, but the ones that weren't quickly readied their spears.<p>

The monster sobbed and blocked as many flying projectiles as he could, but in his pain he was unable to concentrate.

With each new spear that entered his body, a new, small hole appeared on Rigby.

Fives was the first to see Mordecai emerge behind the creature, covered in blood. A shower of purple mist from the creature's side signaled his and the raccoon's arrival. He made the connection immediately, dashing through the air to help the monster swat any remaining aerial projectiles.

Skips took notice, and realized what he had inadvertently done to Rigby.

"STOP!" he screamed.

They didn't stop.

Mordecai held up Rigby's body to show them what they were doing.

"STOP NOW!" Skips screamed, as one final spear wedged itself in the creature's body.

A small hole appeared right in the middle of Rigby's forehead. He looked up at it and screamed, as did the monster, which reached for the newest spear immediately.

"NONONONO! NO DON'T PULL IT OUT!" Fives shouted, hovering close to the creature's face.

"But it huuuuurrrrrrtttttssssss," the monster cried, slamming his arm against a nearby pillar. It crumbled.

"You'll both die!" Fives exclaimed, dodging another flailing tentacle.

"It doesn't matter," the monster sobbed. "I wasn't strong enough to protect him… I couldn't keep you away from him…"

"Just please don't take any of them out," Fives begged. "He doesn't have as much blood as you do!"

"It doesn't matter… he doesn't want to live anyways," the monster sobbed. "I know. I know how he feels…" He reached for the longest spear sticking out of his body.

Mordecai kept pressure on his friend's wounds and whispered the best comforting things he could think of into his ear, cross-legged on the cold ground.

"How can you say that?" Fives shouted. "Look at them, just freaking look, you want to get in the way of that? You want to end that?"

"I… he betrayed him, he ruined their friendship, he…" the monster stopped and watched as Mordecai held his friend.

The blue jay tucked Rigby's head under his neck and rocked back and fourth, shushing him and stroking his ears.

On the other side of the moat, the centipede unraveled itself and sought its master.

"Did we win?" Eileen groaned, covered in a thin layer of slime. She wiped it off with her arms as best she could.

"Eileen!" Skips shouted.

The two girls looked in the direction of the yeti's voice and saw Benson's smashed body.

"Oh my god!" Margaret shouted, running to Skips. Eileen followed.

"Eileen, give me your backpack," Skips said with a sniff.

"Is he dead?" Eileen gasped, handing him her bag.

Skips silently stuffed the gumballs into Eileen's backpack, including the ones he had stuffed in his pockets, blowing dust off the ones that were especially dirty.

"Is… Is he?" Eileen said with a bit of fear in her voice.

Skips dropped one of the gumballs and temporarily tensed up. It began rolling away.

The yeti followed it on all fours, until a white foot stopped it softly. Skips looked up and saw Spot, whose head was disfigured. Some parts were molten; others were just bruised and tattered. He leaned down picked up the gumball with his two fingers.

Skips was a bit mortified by the shroom's ghastly appearance. He could see a crater that bore straight into the man's inner workings.

Spot got back up and helped Skips to his feet. Then, he handed him the gumball and stroked his pet's whiskers.

The centipede rubbed up against him. There was a childish fear in its eyes.

Skips walked back to the backpack and found Eileen and Margaret helping to scoop up Benson's remains.

Eileen looked up at him, and past him, and saw Rigby covered in blood.

Her jaw dropped.

"Oh god, Rigby," she said, getting to her feet and sprinting in the Raccoon's direction.

She arrived at the dry moat and was about to try and cross, when Fives swooped down and stopped her.

"No, no, they've got it under control, just stay back," the ghost whispered.

The monster looked down at the two coddling with a curiosity.

Spot appeared behind Eileen, limping and clutching his own body. He motioned to Fives to come close.

Fives took his hand and lent him his ability of speech.

"Have they met some kind of agreement?" Spot asked.

The monster had stopped crying, and was lowering his arm from the spears in his body.

"We're gonna be fine," Mordecai whispered to his friend. "Shhh, shhh, we're gonna be just fine, okay bud?"

"Mordecai it hurts," Rigby moaned.

Mordecai rubbed Rigby's back a bit.

"I know it does, man, we'll be home soon. I promise, everything's gonna be fine."

He started crying on his last word when he realized he wasn't telling the truth.

"Oh… what have I done…" the monster wheezed.

"I can save him," Spot said.

"You can?" Fives said.

"Yes. I told you that they call me a healer, well I meant that," Spot replied.

With the help of his pet, Spot made his way across the moat. He approached the two friends and offered his hand.

Mordecai looked at it for a moment, breaking his trance with Rigby.

Spot made a motion to the blue jay to step off for a second, which he did. Then, the mushroom man motioned to Fives, who hovered over the moat, leaving Eileen to watch from afar.

"Rigby is to eat what I remove from myself, understood?" Spot said.

"Wait… no, you can't, you're already bad enough as is," Fives exclaimed. "What about your pet?"

"My people will look after my pet. Look, spirit, he is young. He needs his life," Spot said. "We lost a lot of good people saving your friend, what's one more gonna do?"

Fives thought about it for a second. They had traveled all over this underground wasteland for days, running into all kinds of horrors. It seemed as though none were connected to the monster, and it also seemed as though the monster had done no harm to anyone in particular.

Mordecai made the same realization. They had forced Spot to sacrifice so much to help them defeat something that wasn't even a threat to him.

"Well?" Spot said. "My body is beginning to ache. It's time."

Mordecai shrugged anxiously and tilted his head towards Fives.

"I suggest you follow suit, Monster. Don't be selfish. You've lived a long time," Spot said, reaching towards the gaping hole in his head.

The mushroom man, to everyone's disgust, pulled out a white dripping mound of his own flesh and collapsed on the ground, hand outstretched.

Mordecai scooped the glob up with his less-bloody hand and brought it next to Rigby's face.

"Rigby, you need to eat this man," Mordecai said slowly.

"Wha-huh?" Rigby said, delirious from blood loss. At the sight of the repulsive mound, he snapped out of his daze. "Ew, what? Gross!"

"It'll fix you," Mordecai said. "Just trust me, please eat it."

"No!" Rigby shouted. Some red froth leaked from his mouth and he twitched with pain.

Mordecai forced the glob next his friend's mouth, much to Rigby's disdain.

The monster heaved and vomited purple.

"Dude, just freaking eat!" Mordecai moaned, bringing the goo even closer to his lips.

Rigby sighed. "Fine." The raccoon closed his eyes and leaned into Mordecai's hand, taking a bite of the strange substance. "Huh, not bad."

"Faster," Mordecai said, forcing the rest into his friend's mouth.

"Dude wai-GLOMPF" Rigby complained as he was forced to eat.

* * *

><p>Margaret dropped the last remaining gumball into the bag and zipped it back up.<p>

"That's it then," Skips said, eyes wet.

"That's what?" Margaret asked. She was a bit teary eyed herself. "What were we trying to do here exactly?"

"I don't even know," Skips grumbled. "I just… I wanted to save him, at least what was left… for a burial or something."

"Bury me?" an ornery voice said. "Skips, what's going on?"

"B… Benson?" Skips gasped.

"Where am I?" the voice said again, its source still unknown to the both of them.

Skips picked up the backpack and turned it towards him. Two eyes and a mouth appeared on the side, and he dropped the bag out of fright.

"Ow! Skips, c'mon now," Benson said.

"You're… you're a backpack!" Margaret gasped.

"I'm a wha-?"

Skips picked it back up and gave it a long squeeze, muffling Benson's questions and complaints.

"Oh Benny boy, I can't believe you're alive," Skips said, more joyful then he'd ever been.

"Mff… Skips you're choking me," Benson said through muffled gasps.

Skips held the bag out in front of him again and smiled.

"Just what in the hell is going on, Skips?" Benson asked, still ornery.

"Look," Skips said gravely, turning Benson toward his own corpse.

"Oh my… oh god, my body!" Benson said, disgusted and scared. "What… how?"

"The monster smashed your noggin… we put your gumballs in Eileen's backpack," Skips explained.

"That explains why it feels like a pencil's jabbing me in the butt…" Benson sighed. "I'm itchy, I want my arms."

Skips scratched where he guessed a backpack's behind would be, and Benson's eyes opened wide with surprise. "Skips, jeez!"

"Guy's itchy," Skips chuckled. "Got no arms, it's only right."

The yeti unzipped the backpack and reached inside, taking out any pencils and pointy objects he could find.

"Skips, c'mon watch it! Watch the balls!" Benson shouted.

Skips tossed the things aside and hugged the bag again. "I thought you were dead…"

"Well I'm not," Benson grumbled into the yeti's abs.

Skips swung the backpack over his shoulder, dizzying Benson in the process, and started walking away from gumball machine that lay crumpled in the stone ground.

"Wait!" Benson said, watching his old body. "Can't I at least say goodbye?"

"Whatcha wanna say goodbye for?" Skips asked, turning his neck.

"It's my body, Skips, it's important to me," Benson said sincerely.

"Alright," Skips said, walking back to the site of Benson's fatality.

The yeti set the bag down next to its previous body.

Benson stared at his shattered glass dome, his scratched red paint and his tattered limbs. He sighed. A wave of nostalgia hit him.

"I'm gonna miss this one," Benson said, staring at the glittering shards. He saw something white sitting in the main mechanism.

"Anyone got a quarter?" he asked, moving his eyes between Margaret and Skips. "I think you missed one."

Margaret nodded and grabbed one out of her pocket.

Skips picked the machine up off the ground by one of its arms and dangled it in the air while Margaret dropped her quarter in its coin slot.

She twisted the crank and heard a thunk from within the flap. She reached inside and picked out the last piece of Benson. There was something written on it.

"_One free large pizza."_

* * *

><p>Mordecai, Fives and the monster watched as Rigby's wounds closed themselves miraculously.<p>

The raccoon squirmed at the strange sensation of sudden regeneration.

Mordecai held him still until every last wound was gone, after which, Rigby collapsed and relaxed into his friend's grip.

"Oh thank god," Mordecai sighed, rubbing his friend's hair.

"Rigby…" the monster said softly. "I… I'm sorry, little one."

"It's okay," Rigby replied, blushing a bit from the tenderness of his friend. "I'm better now…"

"I take it you will be leaving with your friends?"

"Yeah," the raccoon said softly. "They're… my family, man, I'm sorry I put you through all of this."

"Don't apologize to him!" Mordecai shouted.

"Dude," Rigby said sternly. "He didn't mean anything bad, he just wanted to help."

"But he killed Benson!" Fives yelled, pointing at the monster, which cowered a bit.

"No he didn't," they heard Benson's voice say from across the moat.

Everyone gasped and looked for the source of the voice, but all they could see was a happy looking Skips, along with Eileen and Margaret whom were both hugging.

"Turn around, Skips," the voice spoke again.

"Oh, right," Skips hushed, and turned around.

"Benson!" Mordecai shouted happily. "But how?"

"It's a long story," the backpack said. "Are we done here? Did you guys patch things up?"

"There's one more thing," the spirit said. "Whatever you are… I don't know your name…"

"Just call me Monster," the creature wheezed, still leaking blood. "I quite like the ring of it."

"Okay, well…" Fives said out of the corner of his lip. "We can't force you to, but… Are you gonna listen to what he said? He gave his life for our friend…"

"I suppose so," the monster said, slumping down a bit. "I… I'm scared though… I've never really… died before… not really, anyways…"

"Don't be scared," Fives said, patting one of the creature's limbs. "I think after all this time, you've forgotten that it's something everyone does… eventually…"

"I guess you're right," the monster said, reaching for Skips' weapon that had speared him earlier. "Rigby, I never meant to hurt you or any of your friends, honest."

"I know, man. I know," Rigby said empathically. "Gimme your hand, man…"

A tentacle reached for Rigby's hand, and the raccoon gripped it gently, nodding.

"Well, I guess I'm gonna do it then," the monster said. "Goodbye, guys…"

They watched as the creature pulled with all of his might, and with a great popping sound, a purple mist shot into the air. The monster aimed its body away from them as to avoid covering them in its blood.

Rigby squeezed a bit tighter as the monsters body deflated under the glow of Fives' glowing body.

A blue transparent being leaked from the creature and into the air, hovering in waves above the group as an ellipse. It swirled faster and faster, until it became a funnel, which aimed its tip at Rigby, who absorbed the energy until there was none left.

Out on the battlefield, the broken pieces of mushroom were wriggling, growing new limbs.

* * *

><p>Pops was busy watching the dark rainfall outside the kitchen window, waiting for a sign of his missing crew. It felt like it had been an eternity.<p>

His walkie-talkie crackled incessantly and he clambered for it, hitting the button with his thumb.

"Hello?" the older gent cried desperately into the receiver.

"Pops, it's Skips, we have the Rigby. You got that helicopter ready?" it crackled.

"Oh thank goodness," Pops said as two perky raccoon ears appeared behind him.

"They found big bro?" Don shouted, jumping for joy. "Oh man, oh man!"

Pops chuckled and returned his attention to the walkie-talkie. "I could have father ready it for you, he's always up for a joy ride in that thing."

"Make it snappy, we're getting cold down here," Skips laughed.

"Is everyone alright?" Pops asked, concerned.

"We're all doing just fine… one of us looks a little different, but we're okay," Skips said.

Pops could almost see the smirk on his friend's face. "I'll call Papa right now."

"Tell him to bring that big ladder, too," Skips added.

"Will do," Pops said. "Glad to hear all is well."

* * *

><p>Mr. Maellard's helicopter flew through the night, chasing deer through the forest with its powerful spotlight. Before long, the light illuminated the old well. Down below it lit up the underground. The company of friends, an enormous centipede and a tribe of mushroom men squinted up at it.<p>

A roped ladder dropped down through the portal in the heavenly light. Skips (wearing Benson on his back) grabbed on first.

Margaret petted the monstrous centipede's sad whiskers. Then, she and her friend grabbed the next rung, waving goodbye to their new underground friends.

Fives hovered up through the hole, with no need for a ladder to hold onto.

Mordecai and Rigby were the last to go, hesitating a bit.

"You sure you wanna come back up, man?" Mordecai asked as he grabbed onto the ladder.

"You kiddin'?" Rigby snarled. "I'm all you got, man. Of course I'm coming back up."

They laughed and Rigby grabbed onto the ladder.

Mordecai waved his last goodbye to the tribe as the ladder was sucked back up through the surface.

The light disappeared as the clock struck midnight.

They were home.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

__Okay phew. I've been waiting to get that one off my chest for a while.

This is my first update since I moved into the dorms at my school... sorry it took so long, as always.

This one was a doozy for me, so it was a bit hard to write. I've been going through alot lately and I'm glad I finally found the time to put these things on paper.

So, as always, thanks for the continued readership, and I hope you liked the update.

Until next time.


	19. Friday, August 12th Pt 1

They came in through the front door, soaked to the bone, to the excited applause of Rigby's younger brother.

"Big bro!" the colossal raccoon cheered as he tackled his smaller brother.

"Aw, gross, get off me!" Rigby hollered as his brother gave him a heaping serving of sugar. "Why's he even here?"

"He filled in for you guys while you were gone," Pops said. "And he did a very good job," the lollipop man added, almost condescendingly.

"I'm so glad to see you're okay," Don said, getting even closer to his brother, much to Rigby's dismay.

"Don, listen, Rigby's had a long week, cut him some slack," Skips chuckled.

"Right… sorry," Don smirked, letting his brother go.

"Say, where's Benson, anyways?" Pops asked, lifting Rigby off the ground by his armpits and onto his feet.

"Right here," Benson said.

Skips turned around to show him.

"Oh my, how positively quaint!" Pops gasped with a large grin across his face. "May I try him on?"

"Sure, go ahead," Skips said, handing him Benson.

"Don't I get any say?" Benson asked, irritated.

"Nope," Skips chuckled.

Benson groaned. "I think what bothers me most is you don't even want to know how I got this way."

"Where's High Five Ghost?" Pops asked, adjusting the backpack straps to fit his arms better.

"See what I mean?" Benson grumbled as he looked at the wall.

"Oh, gee, I don't know actually," Skips said, looking around the room. "Where's Muscleman?"

"Not a clue," Pops sighed. "Haven't seen him for days…"

"Typical, as soon as I'm gone, everyone starts slacking off," Benson complained. Just then, he noticed how much cleaner the walls looked. "Hey, wait a minute, who cleaned the walls?"

"I did, sir!" Don said proudly, standing at attention.

"Wow, that's great, thanks so much," Benson chuckled.

"Well... I actually repainted them, too," Don said shyly.

The backpack squinted at an intricate little line that decorated the length of the walls. At first glance, it seemed to be just that, a line, but on further inspection, it became clear that it was made up of tiny, exquisite portraits of Rigby's head, all drawn at the same angle with small dots in between.

"Wow-ha-how, man, that's going above and beyond!" Benson remarked with a grin. "What else did he do while we were gone?" Benson asked, looking up at the man who was wearing him.

"Well, he cleaned the chimney, scrubbed the gutters, vacuumed the floors, replaced the tiles in the bathroom…" Pops began.

"Aw sick!" they all heard Rigby's voice say from upstairs.

"Oh, and he… re-did the boys' room…"

"Mordecai!" Rigby shouted.

Mordecai rushed upstairs. He wasn't disgusted by what he saw, just a bit shocked.

"It smells so… nice," the blue jay remarked, stepping in and flopping on his bed. "Oh man… are these new blankets?"

"It smells like laundry," Rigby said, looking for something to kick. The floors were bare, so he just stamped his foot. "Laundry and old people… and where's my bed?"

"Oh, you don't like it?" Don said, a bit disappointed.

"I like it, Don," Mordecai said, letting his back relax into his soft, springy mattress. "Oh I like it a lot… is this a new pillow case?"

"Where's, my, bed?" Rigby said, pointing up at the taller raccoon.

"I… I put it in the closet, Rigbone, it didn't match the décor," Don said, growing sadder with every accusation. "I thought you guys were sharing a bed anyhow, I didn't think you'd mind."

"We are sharing a bed now," Mordecai said sitting up. "Aren't we?"

Rigby was silent.

"Rigby?" Mordecai asked.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," the smaller raccoon said impersonally, before turning around and disappearing into the hallway.

Mordecai stayed sitting up, not quite sure what to think.

Don strolled over to his bed and sat down on its edge.

"How'd you know?" Mordecai asked. "That we were sharing the same bed, I mean."

"Pops told me," Don said. Then he sighed. "I thought you guys would like it…"

"Don," Mordecai said empathically. "It's rad, man, I'm telling you. Rigby's just… difficult… I guess I forgot that about him. He'll like it in the morning."

"What happened between you two?" Don asked.

They both heard the water go on in the other room. Mordecai wished for a moment that he had followed.

"I got scared. Really scared," Mordecai said. "I was worried about what people would think… worried what Margaret would think."

"Margaret?" Don asked.

"Yeah, she's this girl that works at the coffee shop," Mordecai said. "She's really something else."

"Do you like her?" Don asked.

"What? I do, yeah, but not like… I don't want to be with her or anything, if that's what you're asking."

"If she's the reason you got scared, then maybe you do want to be with her," Don said.

"Well even if I did want her, I want Rigby more," Mordecai blurted. "And I made a promise to myself not to lose him again like I did."

"Alright, Mordo," Don sighed. "Just… he's my big bro, you know? I hope you'll be good to him."

"I will, man," Mordecai said, patting Don on the back. "He means alot to me."

"That's good to hear. I'm gonna go crash downstairs," Don said with a yawn.

"Oh, yeah, go ahead man," Mordecai said.

* * *

><p>The rain fell slower and slower as Fives found himself perched in his favorite tree once more. It was a place of comfort to the immortal, even in his turmoil.<p>

The moon made itself known through the slowly parting clouds, reflecting off the fresh drops that riddled the tree's budding leaflets.

In the moonlight, some white things that Fives was unfamiliar with peppered the tree's trunk. He squinted, and found upon closer glance that they were, in fact, tiny little mushrooms.

"I wonder," he thought, peering at them, at which point he remembered the ember that still beat beneath his skin. He touched the spores lightly and listened.

He didn't hear anything.

"Ah, it was worth a shot," he sighed, descending the tree to find his best friend, whom he missed dearly.

* * *

><p>Rigby squeezed a bottle into his hands and worked its contents into his furred flesh. As he scrubbed the caked blood out of the tufts they formed on his body, he wondered how much of it was his own and how much of it was Mordecai's.<p>

After the red and brown clumps had been lifted from his fur, he sat down, letting the hot water spill over his forehead and along his lips. It felt good. He opened his mouth a crack and let some of it into his mouth, swishing it around and drinking it.

He sat, then lied back, letting his stomach get some cleansing hot water as well. Then, he turned on his side and itched his bottom, sighing and clearing out his nostrils with a quick sneeze.

His stomach growled, and he watched the ripples across his tummy with hungry eyes. He hadn't eaten in a few days, nothing good at least.

He got up, shut off the hot water and stepped out on the bath mat. The floor was warm, strangely so. It felt nice.

He shook his back and abdomen quickly, dispelling most of the water. Then, he scampered out into the hallway.

Mordecai heard little paws scampering down into the living room and got out of his bed.

He slumped out into the hall himself and descended the stairs. The sounds of an open refrigerator and clinking bottles dotted the air. It was a familiar sound, a comforting one too.

The light of the illuminated Rigby's clean, toweled silhouette. He was scrounging for something to eat.

"There's always cereal," Mordecai chuckle-whispered.

"Hm. Hm." Rigby nodded, grabbing the milk.

"It's been a while since we've eaten, so we should probably have some of Pops' cereal… It's healthier."

Rigby chuckled at the joke as Mordecai pulled out the most sugary cereal in the cabinet.

Mordecai poured himself a bowl of cereal, and then Rigby poured himself a mouthful, washing it down with milk before Mordecai could take his first bite.

The blue jay laughed a bit and placed a free hand on his friend's back, giving it a scratch.

Rigby grunted and moved out of the way.

"Hey," Mordecai protested.

"What?" Rigby asked with a mouthful of crunchy cereal.

"What's wrong?" Mordecai asked, crossing his arms.

"I'm eating, back off, man," Rigby complained, lifting the box to his lips again.

"Fine," Mordecai grumbled, taking another spoonful and biting it.

Rigby shot an irate glance toward the taller one, who threw his hands up and stood.

"What?" Mordecai asked. "What did I do?"

"Hm? Nothin' man," Rigby said.

"Are you sure?" Mordecai asked. "You keep looking at me like that."

"I'm eating," Rigby moaned. "Just lay off it, bro."

"Bro?" Mordecai gasped.

"Everything alright in here?" Don asked, appearing with eyes half closed in a childish nightgown.

Rigby narrowed his eyes a bit. "Everything's fine, this guy's just overreacting or something…"

"Rigby, no," Mordecai said. "Tell me what's going on, why'd you call me bro? You haven't called me that in weeks."

"I don't know, it seems like the right thing to call you," Rigby said.

"I think you guys need some sleep," Don whispered, trying to ease the tension in the room.

"I'm not tired," Rigby said.

"Come on, Rigby, let's go," Mordecai snipped.

"Don't tell me what to do," Rigby snapped.

"Dude, what's gotten into you?" Mordecai groaned.

"Ugh," Rigby said, putting away the milk and then making his way out of the kitchen and back upstairs.

Don shot a worried glance at Mordecai, to which the blue jay shrugged impatiently and left the room, following the shorter one.

* * *

><p>"Muscleman?" Fives asked, looking around the green man's dark trailer. He heard snoring. "Dude, wake up."<p>

"Bwuh… huh?" Muscleman groaned. "Fives?"

"Yeah bro, I'm back," Fives said warmly.

"Oh, hey. I'm trying to sleep in here," Muscleman replied with little emotion.

"Oh," Fives said, a bit disappointed with the lack of enthusiasm. The spirit turned around, hoping that things would be better in the morning. For a moment, as he left the trailer, he thought he heard sobbing.

* * *

><p>"Dude," Mordecai complained as he saw Rigby pulling his old trampoline out of the closet.<p>

"Quiet down," Rigby whispered. "People are trying to sleep."

"Rigby," Mordecai moaned. "Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

"Because it's comfortable, this is where I always sleep."

"No it's not, you sleep with me," Mordecai whispered.

Rigby protested silently, turning away from Mordecai's bed.

"Hello?" Mordecai asked.

"You don't tell me where I sleep," Rigby said, sitting up and pointing at Mordecai.

"Look, I'm sorry man," Mordecai complained. "Quit being such a baby…"

"You stop being such a baby," Rigby said.

"Dude-" Mordecai complained, heart pounding.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Rigby asked. "How do I know that after all this, you're not going to just get all freaked out and try to abandon me again?"

"You can trust me, " Mordecai said. "Dude, I went through hell to get you back, I told Margaret everything!"

"As if you haven't done that before," Rigby barked. "Sorry if I'm being ungrateful or whatever, but look, man, this kind of shit happens every week. Like I'm supposed to treat this like it's any different."

"Can't you at least sleep closer to me or something?" Mordecai whined. "Please?"

Rigby sat in silence while Mordecai waited for an answer. Then, he got up, said "fine," and dragged his little trampoline closer to Mordecai's bed. He slumped into it and turned away from the blue jay.

Mordecai draped his arm gently off his bed and rested his hand on Rigby's shoulder, rubbed it a bit, then slipped it between the raccoon's arm and side.

Rigby reached up and grabbed Mordecai's pointer finger. He couldn't deny that he missed Mordecai's hands.

Mordecai adjusted his arm and threaded his fingers between Rigby's.

"We'll figure this out, man," the blue jay whispered. "Promise."

"I… missed you," Rigby whispered.

Mordecai wrapped his other arm around Rigby's shoulder and lifted him onto his bed.

"Hey!" Rigby said, flailing his arms.

Mordecai brought Rigby in closer and squeezed lightly, rubbing his face against the raccoon's cheek.

"Alright, alright!" the raccoon sighed, pushing away.

Mordecai chuckled as the raccoon turned around and scampered back into his own nest.

"Never again," Mordecai whispered, giving Rigby a little pat on the shoulder and leaving his hand there. "Promise."

Rigby closed his eyes and tried to sleep as he heard his friend doze off. The light snoring was a familiar sound to him by then. Mordecai's arm became heavier in his sleep. The raccoon sighed and heaved his shoulders. Then, he climbed up Mordecai's arm and settled in, wrapping it around himself. It was what he really wanted, even if he didn't want Mordecai to know. He planned on leaving before Mordecai awoke.

* * *

><p>"God this is weird," Skips chuckled. "Even weirder than when you were a gumball machine."<p>

Benson sighed, enjoying the yeti's hands on him. "Yeah, I sort of hate it," the backpack yawned. "I miss my old body."

"We'll work on getting you another one tomorrow," Skips said.

"Good, good," Benson laughed, then sighed, then stared. The yeti's eyes were a bit shinier than usual. "Does this mean we're… together, again?" Benson asked.

"I don't know… I mean… do you want to be?" Skips asked.

"I don't know," Benson replied, breathing in and back out. "I guess I do… all this adventure reminded me of how much fun we used to have together."

"Yeah… remember the first time we did it?" Skips chuckled.

Benson snorted. "Skips c'mon," he laughed.

"I love how shy you get," Skips said with a smirk.

"Your bed's pretty comfy," Benson sighed. "As comfy as I remember."

"I think figuring out how to have sex with you was more fun than actually having sex," Skips grumbled, smiling.

"Oh my god, would you get off it?" Benson laughed. "I like you too, Skips…"

"You're sweet," Skips said.

"… but can we just go to bed though?" Benson asked.

"Why's that?" Skips asked. "Don't you wanna…"

"Skips, there is something wrong with you if you think that hitting on a backpack is anywhere near okay," Benson confessed. "I'm doing it for your sake, okay?"

"How is it any worse than hitting on a gumball machine?" Skips asked.

"Well…" Benson said, not really having an answer. "At least that body had arms and legs."

"I don't care about arms and legs, Benson," the yeti said.

"Well alright, then tell me," Benson began, slightly irate. "What is it exactly that you find attractive?"

"Your voice," Skips said, "your fire… and your pain." He tried teasing one of the zippers, assuming it might translate to some kind of sensual contact.

"Alright, this is very romantic and all," Benson blushed, "but I'm a backpack, Skips, this is stupid. Even by our standards."

"Standards? What standards?"

"Look around you, man…" Benson sighed. "I'm a backpack, you're a yeti… we've got a bird and a raccoon back at the house who just happen to be discovering long-suppressed feelings for each other..."

"Hey, weird, maybe, but not stupid," Skips chuckled. "Look, if you don't wanna it's your call."

"Thanks," Benson said. Then he yawned. "So you gonna help me look for a body tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," Skips said, yawning in return. "Hey, you know, I think the rain stopped."

There was no response.

"Benson?"

There was some soft snoring.

Skips chuckled and settled into his pillow.

* * *

><p>"Hey there," Mordecai whispered, scratching Rigby's tummy.<p>

Rigby woke up, startled and a bit embarrassed.

Mordecai smirked. "What are you doin' up here, man? I thought you didn't wanna…"

"You picked me up," Rigby interrupted. "In your sleep."

"I did?" Mordecai asked, seeing right through Rigby's lie.

"Yep… scooped me right up," Rigby said, not moving.

"Hmmm…" Mordecai sighed, nuzzling Rigby's ear a bit.

Rigby growled a little, which Mordecai ignored.

"I wanna show you something," Mordecai whispered.

Rigby was quiet still, and felt Mordecai's hand run along the length of his neck and face. Then, he was turned, face to face with the blue jay.

Mordecai smiled a cool smile and looked down between them.

Rigby followed his gaze, and then jumped at what he saw. They were touching.

"I'm not too good with words," Mordecai sighed. "I… thought I could maybe just…"

Mordecai held Rigby and slowly put him into place, applying pressure to his lower back.

Rigby writhed a bit, releasing a soft moan from his gullet and pressing his forehead against Mordecai's chest.

"Shhh… shhh…" Mordecai whispered, shifting on top of the raccoon. He gave him a look and kissed him deep. When he pulled away, he saw a wide grin cross Rigby's face.

The raccoon gave him a light punch in the ribs.

"Ah, dude c'mon," Mordecai said.

"You coulda' asked," Rigby snickered.

"I did," Mordecai rebutted.

"Are we sleeping?" Rigby asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Well, no, but… ahhhh…"

Rigby interrupted Mordecai with a light bite to his neck, which felt very nice for some reason.

"Ahh… nff… I'm supposed to be leading this," Mordecai complained as Rigby pushed him on his back. "Jeez! Rigby, don't grab it like that!"

Rigby laughed a little evil laugh and rubbed Mordecai's chest while he went about grabbing his junk.

"Fine, I'll grab your junk then," Mordecai barked, grabbing Rigby between his legs. To his disappointment, this didn't upset Rigby at all. Instead, the raccoon shuddered with appreciation and settled against Mordecai's body.

Then, Mordecai had an idea. He reached over the side of his bed and stuck his hand between the mattress and the box spring.

Rigby peeked over at Mordecai's arm, curious as to what he could be up to.

"Ahah," Mordecai announced, grabbing what he was looking for and presenting it between his and Rigby's faces.

It was a metallic blue wrapper.

"Is that a…" Rigby began.

"Mhmm," Mordecai interrupted with a nod.

"So you wanna…"

"Mhmmmmm…" Mordecai interrupted again, bringing his eyes closer to Rigby's.

Rigby's face lit up with fear and excitement. "You wanna fuck?" he exclaimed.

"Shhhhhh dude we gotta be quiet about this," Mordecai whispered, tearing the foil packaging with his teeth. "I'm pretty sure this is against so many rules."

"Who's it for?" Rigby asked.

"Well it's mine," Mordecai said slipping it on him self. "Obviously."

"Pff…" Rigby scoffed. "As if I ever said I wanted you to do me…"

"Well don't you?" Mordecai asked, getting on his knees.

Rigby looked all around. "Well… yeah, I do, I guess..." He laid on his back.

"You're funny," Mordecai laughed.

Rigby grumbled at the remark.

"C'mere," Mordecai smirked, taking Rigby's legs into his hands and pulling him by the hip until they touched. He leaned past Rigby's legs and pressed his face against the bridge of his nose. Then, he pushed himself into Rigby, who writhed and twisted. Mordecai was careful not to be too rough, but it didn't work. Rigby held his foot against Mordecai's stomach to let him know that he was too deep.

"Ow, dude," Mordecai said.

"Ease up," Rigby wheezed. "I've never… done this before."

"Well… is it good?" Mordecai asked.

"I mean it's not… bad," Rigby said through deep breaths. "You're a… kind of a… tall guy… though… aye…"

"Just relax dude," Mordecai whispered, giving Rigby some slack. "We can take it slow."

"Do you have anything slippery?" Rigby winced.

"Oh… hm, I think the condom came with a tube of something…"

"Useituseituseit" Rigby gasped, kicking Mordecai back again.

"Alright, alright, chill out man," Mordecai said, leaning over the edge of the bed again to retrieve the tube. He applied it to himself, and then tried again, rubbing Rigby gently. "How's that?"

"Ahhhh…" Rigby groaned, legs twitching and neck twisting to the side. He started to sweat. "So, so much better… hey, and our room doesn't smell like old people any more."

"Yeah, now it just smells like butt," Mordecai chuckled.

"Ew, dude," Rigby chuckled.

"I'm kidding," Mordecai said, stroking Rigby's cheek. "I think this stuff is blueberry scented." He looked down and noticed that Rigby was getting a bit excited. "Look at this, now…" Mordecai whispered, reaching between Rigby's legs.

"Dude… why are you so good at this," Rigby moaned.

Rigby's encouragement gave the blue jay a bit of an ego. He lifted Rigby by his back until they were both vertical, face to face. His knees came up so they were parallel with Rigby's shoulders.

"Mmmm… you've got a nice tush, buddy," Mordecai cooed.

Rigby felt a warm hand slide up his side and up to his face. The thumb teased his mouth, and then lifted his gum. Rigby bit lightly on his friend's finger and felt a heat in his chest.

"You okay?" Mordecai asked.

Rigby nodded and bit down a little harder.

"Easy…" Mordecai mumbled, retracting his thumb and holding Rigby by his chin.

Rigby smirked and wriggled his nose defiantly. His eyes closed. He was close.

Mordecai gave a couple generous pumps with his hips. The look on Rigby's face fueled his fire. He laid back and let Rigby do most of the work for a bit.

Rigby stayed seated for a while, leaning back and rocking until exhaustion set in. He fell forward and panted, burying himself in Mordecai's chest.

The blue jay felt something warm splash against his belly.

"Ew… Rigby," Mordecai laughed.

"I'm sorry, I was gonna tell you, I just didn't want to ruin the moment," Rigby wheezed. "Didn't think I'd finish first."

Mordecai gently plopped Rigby on his side. "You didn't." He put his hands behind his head. "I came like five minutes ago," He laughed.

Rigby shoved him happily. "You kept going for me?"

"Sure did," Mordecai said confidently, turning on his side to face his friend.

"Aw," Rigby said, holding Mordecai's hand. "That was fun as hell, man," Rigby sighed, leaning on Mordecai's shoulder. "Thanks."

"No problem man," Mordecai said, tapping Rigby on the nose. "Hey dude…"

"Yeah?"

"We just totally banged," Mordecai chuckled.

"Yeah we did," Rigby said with a smile.

"Boned," Mordecai continued.

Rigby chuckled. "Screwed."

"Did the nasty," the blue jay replied.

"Bumped uglies," Rigby said in a serious tone.

They both laughed again. Then, Rigby stood up.

"Where are you going?" Mordecai asked, snatching the raccoon's paw.

"To bed," Rigby yawned.

"But…"

"Mordecai," Rigby interrupted. "Don't worry about it, man. I just need some time."

"But we just had sex," Mordecai said. "You're not gonna stay?"

"I'll be right down here, dude," Rigby said, stepping off the bed. "Just… look, I think we needed that. I think we've needed it for a while."

"Was it not good enough?" Mordecai asked. "It wasn't good enough, was it…"

Rigby laughed. "It was amazing, man."

"Then what's the problem?" Mordecai asked.

"Just give it a little bit of time, man," Rigby said. "Can't dive back in too fast."

He settled into his bed and closed his eyes with a yawn, itching his backside.

"Hey Rigby?" Mordecai said.

"What's that man?" Rigby asked.

"I…" there was a long pause. "I love… you."

"Love you too, dude," Rigby said. He felt a fist bump his shoulder softly. "Oh, and Mordecai?"

"What's up?"

"Next time, your ass is mine," Rigby declared through his teeth.

Mordecai's eyes grew several sizes while Rigby chuckled himself to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Author's notes;<em>

Sorry this chapter was a bit short. To make up for it, here are some short pieces I received in my Tumblr ask box. I love them all.

**The thoughts had haunted him for a while now. He couldn't remember when they started just that, no matter how hard he tried, they wouldn't stop. "Mordecai...your feathers look soft enough to sleep on," the raccoon said under his breath. His thoughts cascaded from there until he was a red-faced mess. "Is it normal to think like that?" Rigby asked himself. He was afrade of the answer he would get. **

– **WylerTheBluebird**

**Rigby really couldn't stand watching the movie. It was gory, and creepy, and there were body parts everywhere with screams, and why did he rent again? Why didn't Mordecai stop him from renting the movie? Instead he was just sitting there... smiling..."You scared?" He taunted, "Here, let me hold you, you big baby." Rigby was going to retort saying he wasn't a baby, but then again, the movie was getting pretty intense… **

**- KeepThePartyVanGoing**

**Mordecai rested his chin softly on the palm of his hand. There was something entertaining and also disturbingly sad about Rigby on a sugar rush. Whether it was watching his imagination act out scenes from movies and stories, or seeing him make a mess of the whole house, it was certainly a site to behold. Shame though that when the raccoon finally crashed, it was up to the blue jay to pick up after him.**

**-Demihuman123**

**Rigby was persistent, Mordecai had to give him that. The raccoon wasn't going to rest until they were both playing under the sheets, work be damned. At first the blue jay resisted and went about his daily tasks, but Rigby would find reasons to brush up against him very sensually and bend over really inappropriately. He broke down the moment Rigby walked between his legs on all fours and brushed his tail against the bird's groin.**

**-Axelfar**

**Rigby's nightmare, after August Chapter 18:**

**Shades of red flashed swiftly over a sea of blue, as sharp claws scratched at a familiar face. Muffled words passed by, shrouded by his blind rage. I felt like I was powerless to stop myself. The Blue Jay embraced me tightly, and gradually I felt the world around me slow down. The words suddenly became coherent. "You did this to me!" was all I could muster in my desperation. I put my small arms around the large figure, as the memory began to fade.**

**-Quilmos**

My readers are so talented :3

Look them all up on tumblr!

I might do this again, so don't be afraid to send stuff in.

Anyways, I hope you liked this week's update.

'Til next time!


	20. Friday, August 12th Pt 2

"Thanks for staying over," Eileen said clutching a tissue.

"Yeah, it was nice of Maelard to drop us off at your place… hey, I think the rain stopped," Margaret said.

She took a second to appreciate the chic living quarters. There were screen-printed tapestries, Christmas lights, some wicker chairs, and several knit animals. The lighting was soft, and there was not a television screen to be found; just a few Gameboys and an e-reader.

"Hey, what are you doing over there anyways?"

"Writing," Eileen said, wiping the moisture off her lenses.

Margaret got to her feet and moseyed over to Eileen's desk. "What about?"

"People need to know what's down there," Eileen said, wiping her nose.

"Is it gonna be like a novel?" Margaret asked, resting her chin on her smaller friend's head. "Or is it just gonna be informative, like an encyclopedia?"

"I don't know yet…" Eileen said, swiveling to face her friend. "Maybe a bit of both…"

"I doubt anyone would believe it," Margaret laughed.

"It would make a pretty cool story though," Eileen said.

"Eh, I wouldn't read it," Margaret said with a noogie. "Then again, I'm not much of a reader."

Eileen looked down and dropped her finger limply on the backspace key.

"Hey, hey, wait a second," Margaret said, lifting her friend's hand and hitting 'Ctrl Z' over and over. "Don't delete it!"

"You said you wouldn't want to read it," Eileen pouted.

"Well that's because I lived it," Margaret said. "It would make an awesome story, Eileen. Plus, the groundwork is already there, all you need to do is find the words."

"You really think so?" Eileen asked.

"I know so," Margaret replied with a gentle shoulder rub. "Maybe you can make it so we get the guys in the end, to," she chuckled.

"I guess I never had a chance with him, huh?"

"Oh, sweetie," Margaret said, hugging her little friend.

"I just really liked him," Eileen said, clinging to Margaret's feathers.

"I know, I know…" Margaret said.

"He doesn't even know I exist…"

"Eileen, Mordecai is his world. You're lucky he even hangs out with us. At least he likes you, he hates me…"

"No one hates you…" Eileen said. "Rigby's just a brat."

"Well why do you like him then?"

"I…" Eileen began. "I dunno, he's handsome, I guess… and he's fun to talk to and stuff… and he plays games…"

"Well you can still do all that stuff," Margaret said. "Look, everything will be alright. Maybe he can be, like, your gay best friend or whatever, help you get guys."

"You think so?" Eileen asked with hope in her eyes.

"Absolutely, I'm sure of it," Margaret smiled. "Maybe you can still have the parts of him you wanted. If anything, you'll probably see him more now."

"Yeah…" Eileen yawned. "Sheesh, I'm really tired, come to think of it."

"It's three in the morning," Margaret said with eyes half closed. "Let's get some sleep."

"Double up on the bed, like old times?" Eileen asked.

"For sure," Margaret smiled.

_**Friday, August 12th**_

Rigby awoke to a bright, pleasant light and the sound of cluttering. He sat up in an instant, and saw Mordecai over by his dresser, trying on shirts.

"What do you think?" Mordecai asked, buttoning the last white button on his coral blue collared shirt.

"You look like a geek," Rigby answered, shifting to his side to allow his clothes to fall off of him and onto the floor. He rubbed his eyes. "What's this all about, anyways? Is there a wedding or something?" He felt a soft cloth hit him in the head. He peeled it off his face and discovered that it was one of his, one that he hadn't worn in ages.

"Put it on, dude," Mordecai said, checking him self out in the mirror and adjusting his fringe.

"What? Why?" Rigby protested.

"I dunno… just… clothes can be cool, I guess," Mordecai said. "I bet Benson will like it."

"Benson is a sack," Rigby chuckled, tossing the shirt behind him.

"As hilarious and true as that is, don't talk trash about Benson. He's an awesome dude," Mordecai scowled. "And put on the shirt, man."

"First of all, Benson is a cool dude. Outside of work." Rigby tilted his head and pointed on his last words. "On the clock, he's a jerk, and you know it."

Mordecai winced and brought his hand up to rebut.

"Second," Rigby continued, "I don't want to wear the stupid shirt, especially if you can't give me a reason other than impressing him."

"You want a reason? Fine, it's distracting, okay?" Mordecai said, taking off his shirt and trying to find another in his dresser, which was overflowing with unfolded cloths.

"What's distracting?" Rigby asked.

"You… your… look we had sex, now when I see you naked that's all I can think about, sex," Mordecai said, ripping a striped white and blue garment out of the middle drawer.

"Oh, so that's how it is," Rigby said with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smile. "I'm too sexy for you, is that it?"

"Oh shut up," Mordecai said. He turned around. "How's this?"

"Unbutton the top, show a little cleavage," Rigby tooted casually.

Mordecai rolled his eyes and unbuttoned the top two.

"Looks good, man," Rigby said, clicking tongue in his cheek.

"Alright, now you," Mordecai said.

"No," Rigby protested.

"C'mere," Mordecai said.

"Never!" Rigby shouted as his arm was snatched and forced into the sleeve of a red and yellow Hawaiian shirt. "Get it off me! Get it… hey… wait a second," Rigby said. "This is actually kind of cool."

"No it's not," Mordecai said, clasping his chin with his two fingers. "Hawaiian shirts are really corny. But I do remember you liking this one back in the day."

"Something's not right though," Rigby said, looking around. "It feels weird…"

"Here, let me," Mordecai said, reaching under the shirt and freeing the raccoon's tail, which was wedged between the back of his neck and the collar of the shirt.

Rigby felt his cheeks flush for a second and thanked his friend.

"See, that's not so bad, is it?" Mordecai asked, scrubbing Rigby's hair with his palm.

"Enough," Rigby chuckled, slapping Mordecai's hand away with his scrambling paws.

"C'mon, we're already late," Mordecai said, stepping toward the door frame.

"Late for what?" Rigby asked, already contemplating removing the shirt.

"Work," Mordecai chuckled, leaning on the doorframe and crossing his arms.

"Right," Rigby said.

* * *

><p>"That's it, that's the one," Benson said as Skips scrolled past a red gumball machine. "Back up, yeah, that's it."<p>

"Thomas Adam's Gum Co. Official Replica Antique Gumball Machine… Fifteen hundred dollars? Benson..." Skips said, eying the price.

"That's the one, that's my model," Benson said.

"I can't afford that, and even if I could… here look at this one, it's pretty much the same thing," Skips said, clicking on the next link. "And it's cheap."

"It's yellow! Yellow doesn't scream 'authority'… it screams 'step on me'."

"I could repaint it," Skips said.

"No, spray paint makes me itchy. For weeks. Remember last time?"

"Right… look, Benson, I don't know what to tell you, I don't have that kind of money kicking around, neither do you. I'd say ask Maelard, but he's still steamed about having to gas up his chopper."

Benson groaned at the prospect of having to settle. "Skips, it's my body."

"Alright, alright. We'll just have to… I dunno, find an alternative," Skips said, slipping his arm through Benson's shoulder strap.

"You can usually find old gumball machines at arcades and pizza shops," Benson said, stuttering as he settled onto Skips' back.

"Alright… but what about the park?" Skips asked.

"Shit," Benson said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Yeah, this vacation's getting a little too long," Skips said, powering down the park's dated computer.

"Vacation?" Benson scoffed. "We almost died."

"Not me," Skips said. "Also, I had a great time. Haven't done something like that in ages."

"If you say so," Benson said. "Let's go tell everyone what to do."

"Right. Hopefully no one laughs at you. You look pretty ridiculous," Skips said.

"Oh, shut it," Benson said.

Skips laughed. "Just don't be surprised if Muscleman finds a way to compare you to his mom today."

* * *

><p>Mordecai and Rigby appeared in front of the house.<p>

Rigby swooned at the sweltering heat, grabbing the front of his shirt and fiddling with it to fan himself.

"Do we really have to wear these things?" Rigby whined.

"Yes," Mordecai said sharply.

"But it's hot," Rigby moaned, starting to unbutton his shirt.

Just then, a couple of girls on bikes whizzed by and whistled, winking and giggling at the pair as they passed.

"What was that?" Rigby asked.

"They think we look good," Mordecai said, brushing his hair back with his hand and clicking at them with the other.

"Oh really now," Rigby said with a smirk, polishing his shirt with his fist and re-buttoning it.

"What's up losers," Muscleman said with a smirk. "How was your stupid adventure or whatever?"

"Awf-" Mordecai began.

"Awesome," Rigby boomed. "I don't think anyone involved will ever be the same! We're all way closer now, too, you should have seen the-"

"Rigby, Mordecai," Benson said, coming out the front door on Skips' back. "Nice shirts. Muscleman…"

"Uh…" Muscleman said. "Where are you?"

"Skips, turn around please," Benson said.

"Sure thing," Skips said, showing Muscleman.

Muscleman burst out laughing immediately.

"Alright, alright, haw haw," Benson said. "Have your laughs now. This is only temporary. Where's High Five Ghost?"

"Present," the phantom said, appearing from behind a bush.

Skips greeted him with a well placed high five for good measure.

"Everyone is present and accounted for," Benson said. "So today is going to…"

Muscleman laughed again, pointing at his boss with a cruel sneer.

"We could start calling you Mitch again," Benson said.

Muscleman shut his mouth with worry as the others snickered.

"That's what I though," Benson barked. "As I was saying, today is going to be a rough day. Do to recent altercations, I'm pairing up Rigby with Fives and Muscleman with Mordecai."

There was a collective grunt from the group.

"Excuse me?" Rigby said.

"I can't have your relationship getting in the way of your job, seeing as it did that so well even before all of this happened," Benson said.

"Relationship?" Muscleman said. "What?"

"Mordecai and Rigby are in love now," Benson said. "You will treat them the same as you did before."

Muscleman's face contorted and Mordecai sighed a bit of embarrassment.

"Ugh, don't say that word," the blue jay groaned.

"You never made Fives and Muscleman split, they're practically married!" Rigby snapped.

"That's gross, bro," Muscleman grumbled.

"I don't want to hear it. You two are lucky I'm still letting you live here, that's a huge liability on my end," Benson said.

Fives silently lamented not being able to catch up with his best friend while the rest bickered.

"Fives and Rigby, you're doing gutters. With all that rain we got last night, they probably need to be cleaned," Benson commanded.

"What?" Rigby complained.

"I don't want to hear it!" Benson shouted. "Muscleman and Mordecai, you'll be working on touching up the shed. It needs a fresh coat of paint."

"Choice," Muscleman said. "Least I don't have to hang out with that loser."

"Hey!" Rigby said.

"Wasn't talking about you, bro," Muscleman said.

Fives' face sagged at the insult. "Muscleman, I…"

"Oh, so you too are pissed at each other," Benson sighed. "I'm scheduling a mandatory make-up dinner for you two, tonight. All of this drama is getting way out of hand."

"What if I don't want to?" Muscleman asked.

"Then you're both fired," Benson barked. "Now I don't want to hear a peep of complaint from any of you, you got that?" he asked, pointing at all of them.

"Yes, Benson," the group groaned in unison.

"Alright, good. Hop to it," the backpack said.

"What about me?" Skips asked.

"You're my legs. Now come on, we have a lot to do today," Benson said, looking up at Skips.

"You've got it boss," Skips said, rolling his eyes.

As Skips walked to the garage, Benson smiled and whispered to himself. "I'm back."

"You sure are," Skips grumbled, placing him on the passenger's seat of the golf cart.

* * *

><p>"Three days?"<p>

Their ears rang from his loud voice.

"You two were gone for three days without any word! You see those want ads in the window?" he screamed pointing to some 'help wanted' papers. "Those are for you two!"

"Eileen," Margaret whispered, "you said you'd take care of this!"

"I sent an email," the shorter one shrugged before her hair was blown back again.

"You're lucky I don't kick you out on your asses right now!" he yelled. "Eileen, go make some lattes or something, and Margaret, get out there and get these people some coffee."

"Right away, sir," Eileen cowered, ducking into the back.

"And Margaret, for god's sake put on an apron, you look obscene."

"Oh, right… sorry," she said, grabbing one out of the box filled with them and tying it swiftly behind her back.

Their manager peeled the want ads off the window and grumbled his way to his back office, still in disbelief.

* * *

><p>Rigby struggled to push up the tall ladder against the roof. It was much too heavy, even when he turned around to lift it with his back.<p>

Fives hovered vacantly off to the side.

"Dude, could you give me a hand with this thing?" Rigby huffed.

"What? Oh," Fives said, startled. He floated over to the ladder and lifted it with ease.

"Thanks…" Rigby said, climbing the first step. "Can you get the hose?"

"I'm on it," Fives said, zooming around the side of the house.

Rigby finished his slow ascent, then sat on the top rung with his chin in his hands, staring off in the distance at his friend's blue shape. He grumbled.

"Back," Fives said, appearing with the hose. It hissed, ready to spray at the slightest squeeze of the trigger.

Rigby grabbed a handful of gunk from the gutter and threw it off the edge of the roof onto the road.

"Uh," Fives said. "I don't think… that's what you're supposed to do."

"Whatever," Rigby said, tossing another chunk of filth and leaves.

"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to put that stuff in bags," Fives said.

"Well I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be doing this with Muscle Man," Rigby sassed, throwing yet another chunk into the street.

Fives frowned, and Rigby gave him a dirty look.

"Why are you being mean to me?" Fives asked humbly.

"I'm not being mean," Rigby said.

"How are you not being mean?" Fives asked, spraying a section of the roof that had some leaves on it.

"It's not mean if you deserve it," Rigby said. He felt a jet of water knock him off his feet. He opened his eyes and he was hanging over the edge of the roof. His heart dropped at the sight and he shrieked, scrambling back onto the gutter and clutching it with all fours. "What the heck?" he shouted.

"What the hell is your problem?" Fives commanded.

"You're my problem right now," Rigby said, coughing up some water. "Don't spray me," he said, tossing a chunk of mulch through Fives' transparent body.

"No I'm not," Fives said. "I hate to bring it up, but you just got back. You put all of us through hell, and we still managed to get you out of there. Now you're mad at me just because you can't work with Mordecai for one day?"

"As if you're not pissed off, too," Rigby said with a point. "I saw how you looked at me when Benson said we had to work together. What, is working with me really that bad?"

"Whoa, whoa, you are way off, man," Fives said. "Why would you assume that?"

"Why else would you be so bummed out…" Rigby grumbled.

"I'm bummed because Muscle Man hates me all of a sudden!" Fives said.

"Wait, really? Why?" Rigby said, wrinkling his brow.

"I don't know! Ever since I got back he won't say a word to me," Fives lamented.

"Weird…" Rigby said, continuing his work.

There was a pause. Fives steamed for a second.

"Weird?" the phantom asked. "That's all you have to say to me?"

"Well what else do you want me to say?" Rigby asked.

"How about 'I'm sorry for being a jerk'?" Fives said, pointing the hose at Rigby again. "How about 'I won't take my misplaced anger out on you'?"

"Alright, I'm sorry!" Rigby cowered.

"Thank you," Fives said. "I'm sorry for spraying you."

"Whatever," Rigby said relaxing his shoulders and frowning. "I was getting hot anyways."

"Hey…" Fives said. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, I'm just… bummed out," Rigby said. He eyed Mordecai painting the shed in the distance.

"About what?" Fives said.

"I dunno… I get really sa… sick… if Mordecai ain't around."

"What, like depressed?" Fives asked.

"No," Rigby barked. "Like sick to my stomach," he said. His angry eyes became sad again. "It's always been like that."

"But you guys fight all the time," Fives said.

"That's because he's a loser," Rigby said, getting wrist deep in the muck once again.

"Hey," Fives said, getting closer to Rigby. "Have you ever… had other friends before?"

"What? Yeah, tons of them," Rigby lied.

"Really?" Fives asked skeptically.

"Yeah!" Rigby said. "What of it, anyways? Back off."

"Chill out, man," Fives said. "Look, I'm just saying… I like you, even if you were being a jerk earlier. Maybe if you learned to… you know, hang out with other people, you wouldn't have to feel sick anymore."

"I don't need anyone else," Rigby said.

"Everyone needs someone else, Rigby."

* * *

><p>"I wonder what they're bickering about," Mordecai said, noticing the commotion coming from the house.<p>

"Who cares," Muscleman said, smearing paint on the wall sloppily.

"Dude, not like that," Mordecai said. "You gotta ease into it, gentle but firm." The blue jay stroked the wall with his brush, giving it a thick coating of white paint.

"Is that the same technique you use on Rigby?" Muscleman asked with a grin.

Mordecai wrinkled his forehead and looked dead ahead. "I really hope that wasn't a sex joke," he threatened.

"What if it was," Muscleman sneered. He felt two hands shove him back into the dirt. "What was that for?" the green man asked.

"I don't make a joke of what you do in private," Mordecai said, returning to painting.

"It wasn't meant to offend, bro," Muscleman said, picking himself up.

"Then what was it meant to do?" Mordecai asked.

"I don't know, geez, I was trying to be friendly," Muscleman said, picking up his brush. "Friends joke about sex and junk."

"You're really sick, man," Mordecai said, turning his gaze away from his coworker.

"I'm sick?" Muscle Man said. "Your first thought was 'Muscle Man couldn't possibly be okay with the gays'."

"Sorry for assuming," Mordecai said.

"Well it's not like I'm not used to it, you guys have always been…" Muscleman said, trying to find the right word.

"We've always been what?" Mordecai asked

"Cut it out!" Muscle Man said. "It's not like that, I just meant… you know, you guys are always hanging out with each other, I don't know. Stop twisting my words."

"Admit it, you think it's weird!" Mordecai said.

"Do you want me to think it's weird?" Muscle Man replied.

Mordecai opened his mouth to retort, but couldn't. He went back to painting, as did Muscle Man.

"It is weird," Mordecai said after a moment of silence. "It's like nothing's changed."

"What were you expecting?" Muscle Man asked. "People don't change bro. Just situations. Trust me, I know."

"That sounded grim…" Mordecai said.

"Maybe it is," Muscle Man said. "It don't bother me none, so stop acting like it does." His tone was even graver. "At least you have something."

A guilty knot found its way into Mordecai's innards. "I'm sorry," Mordecai said.

"Whatever," Muscle Man said.

"Look, did something happen while we were gone?" Mordecai asked with sincerity in his eyes.

"No, absolutely nothing," Muscle Man barked. "As usual."

"Oh come on, don't tell me you're jealous that we…" Mordecai began.

"And what if I am?" Muscle Man asked. "You guys always do cool stuff without me."

"It wasn't cool, man, it was a nightmare," Mordecai said. "We were starving, and we almost died a number of times."

"That's not the point, you did it together," Muscle Man said. "Without me. Like always."

"Dude, we didn't have time to…" Mordecai started.

"I don't care! You guys didn't even miss me," Muscle Man grieved.

"Is this why you're mad at Fives? Dude, come on," Mordecai bereaved.

"And to top it all off, Starla dumped me. Again!"

"That's not our fault," Mordecai said. "I can see that you're upset and all, but dude, don't take it out on us, especially not Fives!"

"Pff. You can all be each other's best bros, I don't even care," Muscle Man said, dropping his paintbrush into the can.

"Muscle Man, wait!" Mordecai said.

* * *

><p>"Listen, kid," Benson said, "I need this thing."<p>

"I'm sorry sir," the greasy teenager lisped, "but I can't sell you the machine. It's been in our family for years."

Skips tapped his foot impatiently, facing away from the register with Benson on his back.

"Oh, and that's more important to you then someone who just lost all his arms and legs?" Benson asked.

"That machine is important to us here at Pete's pizza. It's like a piece of honored history, this joint wouldn't be the same without it," the boy replied.

Benson exhaled through his nose and narrowed his eyes, pointing them at the gumball machine he so wanted. "There's a penis drawn on the side of it," he growled through clenched teeth.

The teen leaned over the counter with a blank expression and looked. "Oh yeah," he chuckled. "I think I drew that when I was a kid."

Benson flailed as much as he could. His blood boiled, and the loose ends of the straps wiggled like cooked spaghetti

"Calm down, guy," the cashier said. "Do you need me to get my dad?"

Skips turned around, rearing the furious Benson. "If I may interject…"

"Oh you goddamn little brat, I'll f-" Benson shouted. He was swiftly interrupted when Skips zipped his mouth shut and his voice became a muffled soup of swears and expletives.

"Look, buddy," Skips said calmly while his boss vibrated angrily behind him. "He's just lost his ability to walk. He can't even scratch himself. Can't you just let us buy the thing? We'll even find a replacement if that's what it takes."

"Why would I want to give that thing arms and legs?" he asked. "If anything, it's better this way. Least he can't hurt anyone."

"You're really trying my patience, kid," Skips said.

There was an award bit as the pinball machine in the corner of the room gave a canned laugh track at the three of them.

"Are you gonna order something?" the boy said, picking his nose.

Skips slammed his fist on the counter and backed away from the cashier.

The teen gave a smirk and waved with all five fingers as he watched the yeti disappear out the front door. He relaxed again, leaning on the counter.

"Geoffrey!" a loud voice called from the kitchen.

"Yes dad," the teen said.

"You scaring away customers again?" the voice said.

"No, they didn't want anything, don't worry about it," the teen said.

"Did you at least ask them if they'd buy the gumball machine?"

"No, I forgot."

"Well stop forgetting! I've been trying to get rid of that thing for weeks now! Old hunk a junk hasn't made me a quarter in months."

"Will do, Pa," the greasy teen sighed, staring off into the distance.

* * *

><p>"How'd it get so hot," Margaret moaned, finding a moment to see Eileen in the back room. "You'd think they'd want iced in this heat, but no!"<p>

"We still have to brew iced just as hot," Eileen said, wiping her forehead.

"At least I could hold the glasses for a few seconds before serving them…" she said.

"What are you complaining about? At least it's air conditioned out there," Eileen coughed. "I miss the tunnels... at least they were cold. Hey, that's a good book title, yeah?"

"Keep playing with it," Margaret said, grabbing a pot of hot coffee off the burner. "We got two ham sandwiches and a roast beef sub on deck." The bird disappeared back into the hustling dining room.

"Got it," Eileen replied, taking out the appropriate ingredients and assembling them quickly. She looked at the food in front of her, expecting some sense of pride to wash over her and validate her hard work.

The three sickly familiar food items stared up at her in their stagnancy. The meat was fresh, as was the bread, but to her they seemed stale. Even the plates themselves were rotten and hollow.

She thought back on the few days prior, and the freshness of it all. The adventure, and even the misery, all of it seemed so new. And yet, it was already gone, and there she was, back in her stale and unchanging life, hoping for something.

* * *

><p>"Wanna play some videogames or something?" Rigby asked, taking out the very last of the gunk that was clogged in the gutter.<p>

"Don't you think we should try to find another job to do?" Fives asked.

"Nah," Rigby said. "It's too hot. Besides, Benson went to town."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Fives said. "Looks like those two already quit too." He looked toward the shed.

"Wonder where they went," Rigby said, climbing down the ladder. "Least we finished our thing."

"I don't know," Fives said, hovering beside Rigby. "I hope Muscle Man is okay though."

"Why?" Rigby asked. "He's being a prick to you, you shouldn't worry about him."

"I still care about him, he's my best friend," Fives said, gathering the hose and setting it up against the wall. He noticed some white toadstools growing from the corner of the house. "Hmm," he said. "Rigby, have you ever noticed these kinds of mushrooms growing around the park?"

"No, not really," Rigby replied.

"I keep seeing them everywhere I go," the phantom said. "Last night there were some on the tree, my favorite spot." He leaned down and felt the largest one, hoping for something he didn't quite realize himself.

"Let's smash'em," Rigby said, raising his foot.

"No!" Fives yelled. Then he subsided. "No," he said in a calmer tone. He caressed the edges of the fungal growths.

Rigby looked at Fives with concern and confusion.

"Sorry," Fives said. "It's just… you never know, ya' know? It could be… thinking about stuff."

"Right," Rigby said. "Well I'm gonna go inside, you hungry?"

"Not really," Fives said, trailing behind. "Eating's kind of a leisure thing for me."

* * *

><p>"Muscleman!" Mordecai said, trailing behind the surprisingly quick green lug.<p>

"What do you want?" he asked.

"We have to finish painting," Mordecai said, grabbing Muscleman's shoulder.

"Don't touch me, bro," the green man said.

"We've got to do our job, stop throwing a temper tantrum!"

"Screw you," Muscle Man said. "You don't know what it's like to have your best friend just up and leave you like that!"

Mordecai couldn't hold in his frustration with the irony of his coworker's comment. He gave a face that said it all.

"Well… fine, maybe you do know what it's like."

"Yeah, and then some," Mordecai asserted. "He didn't mean anything by it, stop being such a baby."

"Alright fine," Muscleman said. "I'm still pissed though, he hasn't even said anything."

"Have you given him a chance to?" Mordecai asked.

"I… I have…"

"No you haven't, you've just been sneering at him," Mordecai said.

"Fine, alright, we'll work it out if you stop nagging me," Muscleman said.

"Good," Mordecai said. "Now lets finish painting that shed before Skips and Benson come back."

* * *

><p>"Well that was pointless," Benson said.<p>

"At least we know where not to go," Skips replied.

"True," Benson said, "but god almighty I almost strangled that kid."

"No you didn't, how could you have?" the yeti asked.

"I would have found a way," Benson chuckled.

"Hell, maybe this is the way it should be," Skips said. "We could start keeping stuff in you, it'd be useful."

"I hope you aren't being serious," Benson said. "I can't see your face from back here… your tone's hard to read."

"I'm smiling," Skips said.

"Good," Benson laughed. "Where else can we look now?"

"Other than the arcade down the way I can't think of anything," Skips shrugged.

"Sucks that the first place that we looked wouldn't give us what we wanted…"

"Well… about that," Skips said.

"Uh-oh," Benson replied.

"Why uh-oh?"

"You sound schemey."

"Well Mordecai and Rigby used to work there… they probably know how to get in if…"

"Absolutely not, no way," Benson said.

"Alright, I'm just saying, last resort kind of thing," Skips said.

"It's off the table," Benson said. "Now where is this arcade, anyways?"

"We're there," Skips said, stopping in place.

"Wow… should have smelled it," Benson said.

"Yeah, it does have that smell, huh?"

"Burnt popcorn, death chemicals and dirty children," Benson said.

Skips laughed aloud for the first time in recent memory. "C'mon let's see if they got it."

"I hate arcades," Benson said as they made their way into the dimly lit facility.

* * *

><p>"Why do we take so many breaks?" Fives asked, joining Rigby for a round of Battle Boys.<p>

"Hm? I dunno," Rigby said. "Why do we do anything?"

"Well… I don't know really…"

"Breaks are apart of life, dude," Rigby said. He got up and positioned an electric fan towards his feet on full power. He put his feet up on the coffee table, along with his walkie talky. The breeze hit him and he shivered with satisfaction. "Ah, that's it. Right between the knees."

"But we take so many here," Fives insisted.

"If it weren't for breaks we'd all be… robots or something."

"You mean like Benson?" Fives asked.

"Well he's not a… hm…" Rigby pondered the thought. "Is he a robot? Robots can't feel, right?"

"Well he definitely has feelings," Fives said. "And right now he's a backpack… would that make him the gumballs themselves?"

"I dunno… I've never really thought about it," Rigby said.

"Well I'm interested, that's all," Fives said.

"Then ask him," Rigby replied.

"I don't know if he would have the answer… sometimes I can't remember why I'm the way I am. Different circumstances, of course, but still."

"Look, we live in a crazy world man. Just let it be," Rigby said, taking a sip of root beer. "I think everything will work out in the end, anyways."

"What does that have to do with…"

"Nothing… hey, it was good working with you today, dude."

"Oh, same," Fives said. "You should probably turn that thing off, Rigby."

"Turn what off?"

"The walkie talky, you left it on."

"Right," Rigby said, clicking it off.

* * *

><p>Down below the surface, things were as quiet as ever. The mushroom people gathered around the corpse of their elder, sad and confused. To them he had been an immortal friend, supportive and healing. They couldn't quite understood why he had given his life for the raccoon who they'd hardly known, or for the strange angels that had come to free their people.<p>

His body was drying out in its death, breaking down under the feint glow of the fluorescent trees. They brought the body near the spotlight that the angels had flown through in their final moments. The sun was at its brightest, and its dazzling light cast a perfect circle in their quiet village

The body's bits crumbled and blew away like stardust in the dark, reflecting pieces of light and glistening as it moved upward in a swirl towards the sky. The elders always spoke of the afterlife, up there, among the other angels that sometimes dropped their trash upon the under-folk. The honor of death was to be met with a welcoming party up above, along with a new life free of hardship and angst. A feeling of oneness bound by permanent youth, health, love and understanding. Up above on the surface, where life was always perfect and none were struck down by moral dilemmas or consequences or death.

As they watched their friend's dust disappear out the hole in their ceiling, they made a call together, as birds do, signaling their distress and sadness, and their fear of the unknown, and how they would carry on without their spiritual guide.

The sun passed the small window in the sky and the light went out, casting darkness upon the mushroom people. They grew scared. The faint growling of some unseen monster echoed across the cavern, and the elder Spot's pet shivered without its master.

They sought the strange crackling, despite their fears, and found it to be a machine that the angels had left behind: a plastic brick with a protrusion and a perforated surface. It spoke to them.

"Look, we live in a crazy world man. Just let it be. I think everything will work out in the end, anyways."

_Author's notes_

Yup... it's been a while. I'm sorry guys. I've been juggling alot of stuff. But it's good to be writing again for all of you wonderful folks. I really do love providing this to all of you, but for the last month it's been hard finding the right words. But, I think I'm back, creatively at least. Life's been a drain for me.

As always, feedback is always welcome and encouraged. I love your comments and reviews, and they usually make my day, so don't be shy.

We're also coming up to the one year anniversary of this fic's publication... June 5th, it will be. Three days before my birthday. I remember that night, putting that chapter up. My friends were kind enough to draw me some fan art too, based on that first chapter. I didn't think I'd still be writing it after all this time... thought I'd given up a few times, but I've managed. Life's changed alot.

I'm rambling a bit, but it's only because this piece of writing means alot to me, as do you, all of you. Every one of you that has left a kind message or followed me on tumblr has inspired me more than you can possibly imagine. Some of you have even sought me out and we've become the best of friends, and I really appreciate that. All of it. It makes me proud to have touched all of you and affected your lives in a positive way. it's something i've always wanted.

I guess what I'm saying is, even after this fic is finally finished and this journey is over, remember me. You've helped me through one of the toughest years i've ever felt, and I love all of you for it. Thank you for your continued readership.

I look forward to completing this adventure with you.

until next time, and with love;

Drb


	21. Friday, August 12th Pt 3

"Empty handed," Benson mumbled as they left the foul smelling arcade.

"They had a gumball machine," Skips said.

"A huge one," the backpack scoffed.

"Hey, beggars can't be choosers," the yeti said.

"Do I look like a beggar?" Benson mocked.

"Yeah, you kind of do," the yeti laughed. "You could use the extra muscle."

"We already went over this, Skips," Benson said. "I want my body back, and I'm not settling for any other model."

"Alright, alright," Skips said. "But that was our last lead, we're shit out of luck now."

"We'll just have to look somewhere else," Benson said. "Or I'll have to start saving up."

"We'll get you a body, Benson, don't worry," Skips said.

"I don't want A body, I want MY…"

"We'll get you your body," Skips said carefully.

"Sorry…" Benson mumbled.

"No, I get it," Skips said. "This is frustrating for you."

"Yeah," Benson replied.

"Just don't worry," Skips said. "I'll fix this, I promise."

"It's not your job to fix everything," Benson smiled.

"It kind of is, though," Skips chuckled. "Speaking of which, I've been meaning to talk to you about something…"

* * *

><p>Back at the house, Rigby had just lost his third game, and with it, his interest in playing.<p>

Fives wasn't very invested either. He hovered over to the television and turned it off.

"What should we do now?" the spirit asked, floating back.

"What do you usually do for fun?" Rigby asked.

"I usually get high with Muscleman and listen to tunes," Fives replied. "Do you smoke?"

"I mean… sometimes… it's been a while," Rigby blushed.

"We don't have to," Fives said.

"Hey, don't you have sweet magical powers?" Rigby asked.

"I… guess, yeah," Fives said.

"Why don't we mess around with those?" the raccoon asked, getting excited.

"How?" the phantom asked.

"We can get creative," Rigby said. "We'll start small… try turning the tv back on… with your mind!"

Fives looked at the TV and concentrated as hard as he could. It didn't work.

"Not like that," Rigby sneered. "Don't be such a wuss about it."

"Well what the hell do you want me to do?" Fives asked, slightly offended.

"Show it who's boss," Rigby said. "Say; 'TV, I order you to turn on!'"

"Wow that's dumb," Fives said.

"You're dumb," Rigby fired back.

"It doesn't have a brain," Fives said. "It doesn't care how I talk to it."

"Just freakin' tryin it, man," Rigby said.

"Alright, fine," Fives sassed, rolling his eyes. "TV, I order you to turn on!"

The screen popped and fizzed to life, and once again the game's pause screen was sitting there, waiting for input.

"Woah," Fives said.

Rigby shrugged and smiled at the ghost. "What next?"

* * *

><p>"So does that mean you don't have dibs on Margaret anymore?" Muscleman asked, finishing up the last little bit of un-painted shed.<p>

"What's that even mean, dude?" Mordecai asked.

"I was thinking about asking her out," Muscleman said.

"Why would you do that?" Mordecai asked.

"Because she's a babe," Muscleman said.

"She's way more than that," Mordecai said seriously. "Besides, you aren't her type."

"You're getting really defensive about this," Muscleman said.

"I'm just telling you the truth," Mordecai said.

"What's her type then?" Muscleman sneered.

"Not you," Mordecai said, deadpan.

"Well…"

Their conversation was cut short by the sounds of Rigby and High Five Ghost having fun. Rigby rolled by, tumbling down the street within Fives, who was shaped like a ball.

"Huh…" Mordecai said, following the ball's path slowly.

Muscleman scratched his head, wondering why he'd never thought to try that.

* * *

><p>"How much you want to bet they already clocked out?" Benson asked Skips.<p>

"That wouldn't be a fair bet," Skips said, pulling in under the park gate.

"Well… maybe they kept going…" Benson said, half hopeful.

"Don't be so sure," Skips said, squinting his eyes. He could see in the distance a rolling shape with two figures chasing after it.

"Unbelievable," Benson groaned. "Skips, step on it."

"Ah, just let 'em play," Skips said.

"Skips," Benson insisted, "Step on the damn gas."

Skips sighed and kicked in the pedal. He aimed the cart for the group of insubordinates on the other side of the park.

* * *

><p>"Alright you two, you can go."<p>

Margaret and Eileen heaved a heavy sigh and took off their work uniforms, dumping them in the cardboard box that was filled to the brim with others.

"I thought it would never end," Margaret whispered, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

Eileen polished her glasses, removing the grease and perspiration from the lenses. "I don't even want to talk about it," she sighed.

They entered their social security numbers into the machine that kept track of their hours, and as quickly as they could, left the coffee shop.

Margaret's car was even hotter than the shop, and its faux-leather interior was unbearably sticky.

They both shouted as they entered the vehicle.

"Turn on the AC!" Eileen said.

Margaret complied, but the vents in the dashboard only coughed up more hot air.

"Just drive, just drive, holy hell," Margaret said to her car.

They both stuck their necks out the window as they drove down the street. The air conditioner kicked in a few miles down the road, and they rolled up the windows to enjoy it.

"Finally," Eileen said, putting her little legs up on the dash.

"So what do you wanna do?" Margaret asked, eying her friend in the rear view mirror.

"Um…" she said, rubbing her chin. "We could… go see the guys at the park."

"Not a bad idea. It's a nice day," Margaret replied.

"I wouldn't call it nice," Eileen said.

"Well it's not terrible, it's just a little hot," Margaret said. She turned toward the park. The sun beat down overhead, but on the horizon a welcome cloud was letting itself show.

"Nice," Eileen said. "Maybe it'll rain again."

They turned in to the gate, where things seemed relatively peaceful, and parked the car in a suitable spot.

* * *

><p>"Alright, that's enough!" Benson shouted. "I cannot believe… no, I actually can believe this."<p>

Muscleman, Mordecai, High Five Ghost and Rigby stopped what they were doing as Skips and Benson loomed.

"What would have been unbelievable is if you four were actually working," Benson said.

"We finished our job," Rigby said.

"No, you don't get it," Benson barked. "This park is your job, there is no 'finished', unless you quit or you're fired, though if you really want to be finished…"

"Benson," Skips said.

"Skips, I don't want to hear it," Benson said. "I love all of you guys to death but for fuck's sake, why do you have to work for me?"

Mordecai felt a pit in his throat, and it dropped through his feet.

"Oh for god's sake, don't give me that look now," Benson said. "I'm sick of it!"

"Benson," Skips said. "Relax a bit…"

"Don't you tell me what to do!" Benson said. "Nothing ever changes around here!" He was beginning to look sad.

"We… we're sorry Benson," Rigby said. He looked around quickly and spotted a dandelion. He sprinted to it and plucked it out of the ground roots and all. "See? We'll keep working, just tell us what…"

"Oh, that changes everything!" Benson shouted sarcastically. "It was the freakin' dandelion! I should've known!"

"Hey, don't talk to him like that," Mordecai said.

"I'll talk to him any way that I please," Benson said. "You're lucky I even let both of you work here considering how unethical it is. And furthermore, if there's any hanky panky going on in the guest room…"

"W-what's goin on?" a small voice said. It was Eileen. Margaret stood behind her. Neither had heard one of Benson's tangents before.

"Oh great, look who decided to show up," Benson said. "These guys are working, scram."

Margaret laughed to herself nervously.

"Benson, enough!" Skips yelled, holding the backpack tight. "You're way out of line!"

"Let go of me, Skips," Benson said, unable to fight back.

"I'll take care of him, guys," Skips said, taking Benson away from the group. "You guys just… do something, do some work, I don't know, quit slacking off."

Benson became furious. He bit down on Skips' hand as they disappeared into the yeti's small house.

The door shut.

"Skips!" Benson screamed. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I would ask you the same thing," the yeti said.

"No, Skips, this is serious!" Benson said. "You just undermined me on so many levels!"

"We'll find you a body, just calm down," Skips said.

"No, Skips, god damn it don't you see what you've done?" Benson said.

The four outside listened in on the argument in an ashamed silence.

"Yeah, I took you away from them before you did anything drastic," Skips said.

"You're fired, Skips!" Benson said.

"Wait, what?" Skips said.

"I don't really have any other choice!"

"You could just… not fire me," Skips said. "What's this about, anyways?"

"Skips, get your things," Benson said.

"Are… are you serious?" Skips asked.

"I. Don't. Have. Any. Other. Choice."

"Benson, come on…"

"Skips, you literally carried me away like a child in front of my entire crew," Benson said. "If I didn't fire you, I wouldn't be doing my job! This is a job, you do remember? I can't be everyone's friend and everyone's boss at the same time!"

"Who's gonna take care of you?" Skips asked. "And where am I gonna live?"

"I don't know! I don't have another choice Skips, and you blew it! You fucking blew it and now I have to let you go!"

"Okay. Goodbye then," Skips said. He grabbed Benson by his handle and brought him outside.

Mordecai jumped at the sight.

"Here," Skips said, handing him the backpack.

"Where are you going?" Mordecai shouted as the yeti skipped away quickly.

"I don't know, somewhere else, you can keep him," Skips yelled back.

"What happened?" Mordecai asked.

"Skips no longer works here, everyone else get back to work," Benson said coldly.

"Benson, you can't fire Skips," Rigby chuckled. "He's like our grampa."

"No he's not, he is… was…. your coworker, now get back to work or I'll let you go too," Benson said.

"C'mon, Benson, lighten up… Yo Skips!" Rigby called out.

The distant, barely visible yeti turned around for a moment and shook his head.

"Wait, you actually fired Skips?" Rigby asked. His eyes became black pools.

"Yup. Mordecai, can you give me a ride back to my apartment please?" Benson asked calmly.

"Uh… sure, whatever you need Benson," Mordecai said nervously.

"The rest of you, finish that shed. And Muscleman, you and Fives still have to figure your stuff out tonight. Go out wherever, but keep the receipt. I want proof. Now let's go, Mordecai."

Mordecai placed Benson in the passenger seat of the still running golf cart and drove off, giving Rigby a nervous look as he drove away.

"So… uh… Margaret, you wanna have dinner with me tonight?" Muscleman asked.

* * *

><p>The drive was odd. Benson seemed too relaxed, and Mordecai was a bit nervous.<p>

The blue jay didn't know what to say, so he didn't.

Benson watched the scenery pass by in silence and Mordecai drove. He looked peaceful, albeit sad.

Mordecai parked the cart in front of Benson's building and carried him up the stairs. He seemed heavier than before.

"Keys are in my front pocket… watch the gumballs," Benson said.

Mordecai sifted through his boss for the keys, which was even stranger than he thought it would be. It was warm in the pocket. He could feel a heartbeat through the nylon lining. He grabbed them as quick as he could, being careful not to touch the sides on the way out. He unlocked the door and flipped on the light switch. The apartment was clean.

"Just put me on that chair over there," Benson said.

"Do you… want me to turn on the TV or something?" Mordecai asked.

"Nah, just leave me. I'm tired," Benson said.

"Okay… so that's it?" Mordecai said.

"That's it," Benson smiled, shyly. "Turn off the lights on the way out… and leave the key outside."

Mordecai nodded and hit the switch.

"Oh, and Mordecai?" Benson said.

"Yeah, Benson?"

"Take Rigby out tonight… somewhere. You two deserve a break," Benson said. "Hell, the lot of you, just… do something together."

"Okay Benson," Mordecai said, still confused. "Have a good night."

* * *

><p>The clatter of billiard balls blowing apart accented the 80s rock that rustled the air. It was happening, and despite the days events everyone was in high spirits.<p>

They sat around a circular tall table. Blue and red lights flashed all around them.

Mordecai and Rigby sat next to each other, trading sips of beer and getting silly.

Margaret and Eileen poked each other gleefully. Margaret's cheeks flushed a rose color.

Muscleman rocked back an fourth to the loud tunes and bragged about how much he could drink, and Fives stared at some unseen artifact in the corner of the room. His green friend interrupted him with a shoulder squeeze and a noogie. His crescent smile lightened the mood even more.

"So Margaret," Muscleman grumbled through a warm smile "I was gonna order hot wings, but then I realized that you already brought some."

"And that's why Muscleman picked this dump," Mordecai laughed. "So he could make that stupid pun."

Margaret chuckled and Eileen elbowed her again, gently.

"I thought it was sweet," Margaret said, resting her chin on her hand.

Muscleman blushed, much to everyone's surprise.

"Are you two over your crap?" Rigby asked, ignoring all prior socializing. "Like… seriously, what's up with you two?"

"We're cool," Fives said.

"Good," Rigby said. "You two fighting is unnatural."

"Yeah, that's our job," Mordecai said.

"You got that right…" Rigby said, bumping fists with the blue jay.

"Can we talk about Benson for a second?" Fives said. "Poor Skips…"

"I still don't buy it," Muscleman said, thrusting his mug of ale forward. Its frothy contents spilled over the rim and splashed the table. "They're best friends, how can you fire your best friend?"

"He seemed pretty serious to me," Margaret said. "Mordecai? You drove him home, what did you think?"

"He seemed… peaceful, oddly. Just went to sleep when he got there, too, and… god, I wish they'd turn this music down," Mordecai crooned.

Rigby tilted his head. The jukebox presented something that peaked his ears. "Ah nah nah... this my song. Excuse me…"

The raccoon hopped off his barstool and did his best "good dance" impression, much to the amusement of Mordecai and the rest of the group.

"Come on!" Rigby said, challenging the rest of his friends to get in on the music.

Mordecai crossed his arms and shook his head. "I don't dance to this kind of trash…"

"Oh lighten up," Margaret said, getting up grabbing Mordecai by his arm. "No one's watching." She winked and rubbed his lower back.

Mordecai tapped his foot to the rhythm, and the rest of his friends jumped in. The scene was corny, and Mordecai knew this better than everyone there, but they were tipsy and they were, as it were, kind of in the mood for something corny.

Even Fives was in the spirit, and for some reason Eileen seemed kind of pretty to him, so they danced.

Muscleman boogied around Margaret, twirling his arms around each other and bouncing his hips back and forth.

She chuckled. He wasn't a great dancer, but his heart was in the right place.

Rigby climbed Mordecai's leg and rode on his back.

Mordecai, in turn, whipped around in an attempt to shake him loose. It didn't work, so he figured he would try to enjoy it.

"Margaret," Eileen called out happily. She was suspended several feet in the air.

An ecstatic Fives held her by her hand, and they both spun about.

Rigby grabbed Mordecai around the neck and slid his neck out and their noses touched from the side.

Mordecai roughed up Rigby's hair and laughed a bit. "You're such a dork."

The dancing continued, the lights flashed, and it seemed like they were the only ones there. It was loose, and fun, and probably the first time they had all hung out and really let go of themselves.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mordecai thought he saw a familiar shape covered in a long coat.

A hulking silhouette shambled by outside. A flash of lighting revealed white fur and a ragged face, staring at them through the window.

Mordecai made sure no one was looking and dipped away from the rest of his friends.

"Where are we goin?" Rigby asked in his ear.

Mordecai had forgotten that Rigby was playing passenger, so he just shushed the raccoon and kept making his way toward the door.

He pulled it open. There was heavy condensation, which none of them had noticed from inside.

"Skips!" Mordecai shouted.

Rigby peaked over his friend's shoulder, wide eyed and taking on water.

The figure stiffened up and stopped. It had a large burlap sack and appeared as a frightening decoration in the storm.

Another bolt lit up the street.

The figure motioned them into the alleyway.

They followed. Rigby clung to Mordecai's back even tighter.

"Skips, what are you doing out here, man? You're gonna get sick," Mordecai said turning the corner.

"I don't get sick," the yeti's grizzly voice said. All they could see were his teeth.

"Well what are you doing creeping around here?" Rigby reiterated. "And what's up with the sack?"

Skips stepped out into the neon pink and green light of the alley. "I was just checking up on you guys. Looked like you were having fun. Good fun."

"Skips, what is going on?" Mordecai asked. "Did Benson really fire you?"

"He did," Skips said. He shared the same strange calmness that Benson had earlier. "Hey, what's the occasion, anyways? All you young people dancing around and stuff…"

"We can't run the park without you," Rigby said, raising his eyebrows and shaking some moisture off his whiskers.

Another bolt lit up the street.

Skips chuckled. "Sure you can, just need a little bit of practice."

"But Skips!" Mordecai said, shielding Rigby's nose from the rain with his hands. "Oh… damn it…" He looked down at his own reflection and saw the moon up above.

"Look, Mordecai," Skips said. "I promise, this is for the best. Now look at me."

Mordecai looked.

Another bold lit up the street.

"I need you to tell me you guys are gonna be okay without me," Skips said.

"But we need you…"

"No you don't. Now c'mon, let me go. I got to," Skips said, throwing the strange sack over his shoulder. It clattered against his body.

"Skips… are you gonna be alright?" Rigby asked.

"I always am," Skips said, before turning and disappearing into the night.

Rigby sought Mordecai's eyes from his shoulder-perch. They shared a look of concern, and then looked back.

Their friends stood in formation in front of the bar's door.

"What's going on out here?" Margaret asked.

"N… nothing. I thought I saw something," Mordecai said.

"C'mon, let's get these ladies home," Muscleman said.

"I've got my car," Margaret replied.

"Oh… yeah," Muscleman said. "Hey… uh, Margaret, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Um… yeah," Margaret said with a smile, looking to Mordecai.

Mordecai nodded, as if to say, "it doesn't bother me." A drop of water slipped off the end of his cool black beak.

When she looked away, Mordecai gave Muscleman a look of contempt, but also of acceptance.

The two disappeared behind the bar, where Margaret's car was parked.

Eileen shivered, holding herself.

"Oh, hey, um…" Fives said, looking at her. "Uh… this!" His body ballooned in an arc shape and shielded her from the rain with a whomping sound.

"Woah!" She said with a smile. "Wow, that's so cool! Thank you!"

"Hey it's, um, no problem, Eileen," Fives said.

"Need a ride home?" Rigby asked. "We brought the cart… Margaret might be a while."

"Yeah, probably a good idea," Eileen said. She flipped open her phone and sent Margaret a message before closing it. She chuckled. "You make the screen go all crazy," she said, looking up.

It was true. Underneath the phantom, the screen's colors were all wrong, but in a way that was strikingly vibrant.

"Oh," Fives chuckled. "I guess I do, huh?"

"And it's warm under here, too," Eileen said. "It's like the sun's out…"

"Why don't you have magic powers?" Mordecai asked Rigby.

Rigby whispered in his ear. "I do… sexy powers."

Mordecai flicked Rigby's nose. "I'm not talking about that you idiot, I'm talking about the kinds that keep me warm."

"Well… that's your job," Rigby said.

Eileen ignored the two and baked softly under the ghost, shifting back and forth on her little feet.

"Alright, as touching as all this is, me and Rigby don't have a magic umbrella to keep us warm," Mordecai said, holding up the key. "Shall we?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Fives whispered intently.

* * *

><p>"Let me just say this," Margaret said, starting her car. "If you think I'm just gonna take you back to my place, it's not happening. Just because people think I'm that kind of girl doesn't mean…"<p>

"What are you talking about?" Muscleman said.

"Well…" she said, turning on the heat. The vents blasted left over air conditioning before heating up.

"Just because people think I'm that kind of guy," Muscleman began. He let her fill in the rest. "Look… uh, I had a really nice time tonight. You're really cool." His voice was grizzly, but caring and honest.

She took her right hand and flicked a lever that made the windshield wipers go. "You're pretty cool yourself," she said.

"I know you're… way out of my league, but..."

"Are you asking me out?" she asked with a laugh.

The laugh hurt him a bit.

"I mean, I was just gonna ask… you wanna get to know each other some time?"

"I wouldn't mind it in the least," She said. Her phone buzzed, and she opened it. It was a text from Eileen.

"Hey, I'm getting a ride with Mordecai and Rigby, I'll see you tomorrow =) _THE SKY HAS FALLEN PRESS ON SOLDIER DON'T LET THEM HAVE OUR BONES_"

"Uh, well that's odd…" Margaret said, showing Muscleman the text message. "Look at that last part."

"She's near Fives," the green man said. "Probably a message from another dimension happens all the time."

"Muscleman… what the hell is he?" Margaret asked.

The green man shrugged.

* * *

><p>"Bye Eileen!" Fives said as they dropped her off at her place.<p>

She waved. It made him smile.

They drove away, and the spirit watched her disappear under the streetlight as it flickered into nothing.

"What a cool girl," Fives said.

"Yeah, she ain't half bad," Rigby said with a shiver. "These stupid golf carts don't do a thing for this kind of weather, do they," he whimpered.

Mordecai lifted his arm and kept his eyes on the darkened road.

Rigby slid close and Mordecai received his head in the pit of his arm, shutting him in.

"Better?" the blue jay asked.

Rigby nodded so that Mordecai would feel, but not see it.

Fives eyed their closeness with an unfamiliar longing.

"You two are really beautiful, you know that?" Fives asked.

"Hm?" Rigby asked.

"Your synergy… you two cooperate almost automatically, at least when it comes to closeness."

"These words anger me," Rigby grumbled, leaning even closer to his friend.

"It's not to offend. I just find it interesting, that's all," Fives said.

A flash of lightening revealed dark figures looming in the street. Their mysteriousness was at once familiar to the three.

"This city is… surprisingly spooky at night," Mordecai remarked.

"Speaking of," Rigby butted in, "what the hell was up with Skips?"

"Skips?" Fives asked.

Mordecai slapped his own forehead.

"Oh… damn, was I not supposed to tell anyone?" Rigby asked.

"Whatever," Mordecai said. "Remember when I said I thought I saw something?" Mordecai asked Fives.

"Yeah," Fives replied, extending the word about as far as it would go.

"Well, I did see something," Mordecai said.

"We saw something," Rigby added.

"Right, we," Mordecai said, somewhat annoyed.

"Well what was it?" Fives asked.

"It was Skips," Mordecai said. "He was just… creeping around with this big bag. I have no idea what he was up to."

"Did he say anything?" Fives asked.

"He pretty much acted like we were never gonna see him again," Mordecai said. "As though he wasn't even going to try and get his job back."

The lightning flashed again. In the second or so of light, a manhole slid open and an unknown horror peaked its head out at their passing cart.

"It seems so strange that Benson would fire Skips like that," Fives said.

"Right?" Rigby gasped. "Something's very fishy about this whole thing, I don't buy it."

"Yeah… I mean, Skips is kind of important, is he not?" Mordecai said.

"Important?" Rigby asked. "There's a good chance that all of us will die tomorrow without him. Think about it."

"It's not that bad… maybe he just wants to move on," Fives said. "He's been there for a while…"

"But that still doesn't explain why Benson would let him go like that…" Mordecai said. His voice was wistful.

"Maybe Benson's finally snapped," Rigby said.

"Either way," Fives said, "we should be more careful from now on… he sounded ready to drop any one of us…"

"I just… can't believe it," Mordecai said. "I thought Benson was becoming so much… nicer than that. I thought we were friends…"

"Tsk tsk," Rigby said. "Remember what I told you this morning? Benson is a cool guy, but he's also our boss, and that comes first."

"Maybe he's trying to tell us that," Fives said. "Maybe this is the end of days."

They all shivered at the thought.

"I just hope Skips is okay out there… wherever he is…" Mordecai said.

The bright headlights of the cart pierced the icy daggers that fell from the sky and illuminated the iron park gates as they pushed forward.

* * *

><p>Three rapid knocks awoke Benson. He sniffed and smacked his lips, breaking the seal that kept his eyes shut.<p>

"Come in, come in," he said calmly. He yawned.

The door popped open slowly. Yellow light leaked through the frame.

"Skips," Benson whispered with a smile.

"How's it goin," Skips said, stepping out of the light and into the apartment. His bag cluttered behind him.

"Oh no," Benson said. "Skips, what did you do?"

"I got you a body," Skips said with a heave in his voice, grabbing a gumball machine out of the sack.

"Skips," Benson complained. "Is that the one from the pizza place?"

"Well…"

"Did you at least scrub off the drawing?" Benson asked. "You shouldn't steal you know."

Skips turned the gumball machine to inspect it.

The phallus remained on the chassis of the machine.

"I can take care of that," Skips said, sitting down in a chair near Benson.

Benson smiled, and then looked down. A tear formed and stopped at his nose. "I'm sorry I went off like that earlier."

"Are you kiddin'?" Skips asked. "It was perfect, you put on quite a show."

"I… meant all of it, Skips…"

"I could tell…" Skips said, resting his chin on his hands. "I'm… sorry too."

"Well you shouldn't be…" Benson said. "Though I don't like lying to my crew…"

"I know you don't," Skips said. "But thanks."

"Are you really quitting, Skips?" Benson asked. "I could always just… play it off like it didn't happen. If you came in tomorrow I bet no one would say anything."

"Nah, it's better this way. I can't have you and work with you at the same time… it's too complicated, too embarrassing for ya."

"I'm gonna miss you there," Benson said.

"Yeah, but you won't miss me here," Skips said with a smile. "Plus, the guys back at the park won't think I'm a quitter, and they'll be a bit more scared of you. Should keep them from slacking a bit."

"I guess that's true…" Benson said. "I just wish you didn't want to leave…"

"Look, Benson, I've been there so long… being down in the tunnels reminded me what life can be," Skips said, eyes closed. "Exciting… I wish you'd join me…"

"I can't, Skips. They need me… almost as much as they need you," Benson said.

"Ah… don't make me feel guilty," Skips said. "It's not my responsibility to keep those kids in line."

"I know it's not..."

"I'll find another job."

"I know you will…"

A flash outside the window cut their conversation in two.

"I guess we should get you into your new body, yeah?" Skips said.

"The boys will wonder where it came from," Benson said.

"Just tell them… it sort of showed up on your doorstep. Be all mysterious about it."

"Alright, alright," Benson said. "I'll take the stupid body."

"That's my boy," Skips chuckled, picking up the backpack.

Benson sneered.

The yeti unscrewed the top of the metal machine and unzipped Benson's largest pocket.

"Careful now," Benson said.

"Relax," Skips said. "I know what I'm doin'."

Skips reached into Benson and pulled out his gumballs, dropping them slowly into his new body.

His old face faded incrementally with every handful.

"Oh jeez that feels weird," Benson trembled. His voice was split two ways in an otherworldly vibrato.

"Almost done," Skips said. "Just hold on."

Before long, the backpack was empty and Benson was looking more like his old self again.

"What about arms and legs?" Benson asked, rocking back and fourth on his pedestal.

"I got you covered," Skips said, reaching into the bag. He pulled out a fistful of metal pieces.

"You made arms and legs?" Benson asked, feeling a tad relieved.

"I did," Skips said. "Amazing what you can find at the junkyard. Now… hold still, this is gonna tickle a bit."

Skips pressed the new arm against Benson's body. He held it there while he got out a rather old looking electric drill, which he plugged into the wall. He pressed the drillbit against the arm and held down the trigger, making a fresh hole through both the arm and the body.

Benson winced as Skips slid the drill bit out.

The yeti took two washers and sandwiched the arm between them. Then, he took a screw and fastened the arm in place.

The arm immediately sprang to life, and Benson held it in front of his face, flexing the fingers. They creaked gently. "Just like I remember them," he said. He was so happy that he didn't notice the other arm being fastened the same. The other arm copied his left almost automatically, and Benson continued marveling at his fingers.

"Now the legs," Skips said.

"Now the legs," parroted Benson, using his new arms to shift onto his back.

Skips fastened the legs as he had the arms.

Benson, relaxed in his compromising position, stared at the ceiling with a grateful smile. With the legs in place, Benson attempted to get to his feet.

"No…" Skips said. "Stay for a while." He smiled and placed his hand under Benson's cold metal neck.

"Thanks Skips…" Benson said with a warm smile. The spheres in his head became a softer shade of pink. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

* * *

><p>"I think we should move out of here," Mordecai said, buried in blankets. They were still cold from the drive. "Get an apartment, our own place, you know?"<p>

"I like that idea," Rigby said calmly. "Though… I do love this room…"

"I like it too, but… I think it's time to move on," Mordecai said. "Can't get too comfortable. We've been here a while…"

"I guess so," Rigby shivered. "Jeez it's cold. Freakishly cold."

"I have an idea," Mordecai said, poking Rigby in the back.

Rigby grinned, already knowing what the idea was.

"And then, you know what I said?" Muscleman said, turning and stretching his seatbelt.

"What did you say?" Margaret asked

"My mom!" the green man boomed.

Margaret laughed with him. "God that's so ridiculous," she cackled. "You're really funny, Mitch."

Muscleman wasn't put off by the name. It was something he only let a few people call him.

"Well… this is your place, right?" she asked.

Muscleman's trailer appeared in her headlights. He jumped at the sight. They had taken a very long route home, but it seemed so short. He wished it had been longer.

"Yeah… this is my place," Muscleman said. He thought to invite her in, but the mess would have offended her, so he didn't.

"Hey, well, thanks for talking to me," Margaret said. "Wasn't what I expected."

"It was nothing," Muscleman said, opening the door.

"Wait, before you go," she said, sifting through the mess in the back seat. She grabbed something and handed it to him. "It was my ex-boyfriend's. I think it would suit you."

Muscleman examined the object that she'd given him. It was a small, blue-glass bottle with a spray nozzle at the top. "Cologne?" He asked.

She gave him a look that said, "I'm just being honest."

"Oh," Muscleman chuckled nervously. "Thanks…"

"We should do this again sometime," she said. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Muscleman was a bit staggered. "Uh… nuthin," he replied.

"Well… meet me tomorrow at the shop, I get off at five."

"Oh, yeah, okay," Muscleman said, stepping out of the car. "I'll see you later!" He smiled.

"See you later," she said.

He shut the door and she drove off.

Muscleman relaxed in his bed and looked the bottle over, trying to understand what it meant. "Do I really smell that bad?" he asked himself. He sniffed under his pits and got his answer. Then, he sprayed the bottle on himself. The smell was loud and toxic, and some of the chemical got in his eyes. He squealed and pounded on his mattress in anger.

* * *

><p>Mordecai turned the knob on the shower and sat down. The two of them soaked in the inviting warmth and the hot droplets carried away the pains and shivers of the day. They chattered softly, keeping enough distance between each other but breaking the boundaries into intimacy when appropriate.<p>

It wasn't until about ten minutes in that they thought to wash themselves, and even then they decided it better just to wash each other. The act wasn't overtly sexual; to them it was becoming the norm to be close, to take care of each other and to bond as deeply as two could bond.

Outside, Fives kept to himself above his favorite tree.

Pops watched him through the window, wishing he could fly himself.

The spirit looked down at the distant ground, imagining the world beneath. He wondered how they were doing down there.

His thoughts turned to Mordecai and Rigby… and their closeness. He hadn't felt closeness since his previous life. Even close contact with friends didn't make him feel much.

He looked toward the mushrooms he'd noticed before. They'd grown. The spirit placed his hand on the largest one, hoping for some kind of response.

The mushrooms did not talk to him, as he wanted them to. At that moment he felt more alone than he had in a while. He'd hoped for some kind of retribution for those he'd lost down in the caves. No such luck.

He hovered down the trunk of the tree and made his way around the park. The rain was beginning to clear, and the grass was starting to rustle in the night's breeze. A deep silence took hold, and the world was still.

The trashcans were nearly full, and come Monday they would have to clear them out and deliver the bags to the dump as they had so many times before.

He thought about the time that had passed, and what he had learned in the last couple weeks, and of the tenderness he'd observed in his closest company, as well as the spite. He'd been given the gift of understanding, at least a bit, but it wasn't enough.

He hovered through Muscleman's trailer wall, sure that his friend was asleep.

The green man clutched a bottle that promised him something.

Fives decided to settle in under the bed. It wasn't an ideal nest, but he didn't want to risk startling his friend in the morning. He needed to be near someone. He didn't want to spend any more nights alone.

Inside the house, Mordecai and Rigby stepped out and dried off, making sure no one caught them.

They made their way back to their room.

Mordecai lay down on his mattress and invited his friend under the sheets once more.

Rigby didn't think twice this time, crawling under the sheets and backing into his taller friend. Two strong arms brought him in closer, and brought them together.

_Author's notes_

_We're almost there..._


	22. 6 Months Later

Six months later…

It was calm in the apartment. The light hum of a refrigerator stocked with food shook the floor and reminded the both of them that they were safe.

It was cold, but for them that just meant a heavier blanket and a longer sleep.

The train began to pass below, 3AM, right on the dot, as it did every Sunday, plastered with intricate swears that described the pair. From up there they could barely read them.

Rigby peeled his eyes open and backed into his friend a bit more, seeing if he could take in any more heat from his body.

Mordecai gathered Rigby's arms and legs held them tight.

This very event had played out almost every week since they moved in to the apartment. It was the kind of sweet little ritual that never got old.

Rigby moved the blue arms out of his way and hopped out of their cramped bed to get a cup of water.

He got a glass out of the cupboard; it was a bit milky looking. He held it under the already dripping faucet and twisted the side that said "C". He turned it off again, and finished half the cup before his feet left the tiles.

Mordecai took the cup from Rigby, finished the other half and sat up Indian style.

Rigby smirked and ran his hair back and fourth under Mordecai's chin before curling up in the blue jay's lap. His tail was like a whirlwind, and yet it seemed calm in context, falling limp across the length of Mordecai's leg.

Mordecai placed a hand on the back of Rigby's neck, and it vibrated underneath him. Rigby attempted to bite the other hand, and Mordecai rewarded him with a thumb to gnaw on.

"When do you think we should tell them?" Mordecai asked, stroking Rigby's right ear.

"Tomorrow would probably be a good time," Rigby said, taking his mouth off of Mordecai's thumb for a second.

"Hey, is Eileen almost finished with that book she was writing?" Mordecai asked.

"Yeah, pretty sure it just needs some editing," Rigby said, once again popping the thumb out of his mouth.

"Did you read the preview copy she lent us?" Mordecai asked.

"I skimmed it," Rigby shrugged. This time, the thumb stayed, causing his voice to lisp.

"Yeah? What did you think?" Mordecai asked.

"Eh," Rigby replied.

"Eh?" Mordecai asked, this time indignantly.

"It just didn't seem all that plausible," Rigby said, reclining on his friend's comfortable legs.

"Dude, all of that stuff happened exactly like she wrote it," Mordecai said, removing his thumb and poking Rigby on his nose.

"Doesn't mean it's plausible, and plus she didn't get my character right at all," Rigby said, pathetically (and slowly) grasping at the hand. His neck hung off the side of the bed loosely.

"Oh, you mean Crosby?" Mordecai asked, dodging Rigby's attempts at apprehending his thumb.

"Well sure, she was nice enough to change our names, 'Malachi', 'Crosby', but she wrote me all wrong."

"Dude," Mordecai said, "She interviewed you, and she pretty much wrote your exact words." The blue jay pressed his palm against Rigby's forehead.

"Feh," Rigby replied.

"Whatever, just don't tell her that," Mordecai said. "She's been busting her ass for half a year trying to finish that thing and get it published, she'd probably give up if she didn't think you liked it."

"I didn't say I didn't like it, it's just flawed," Rigby said, grabbing the thumb again with his gums like a cigar. "Now, once they make it into a movie, maybe I'll like it a bit more."

"Pff… movie?" Mordecai asked. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here."

"This thing is gonna be big, yo, I have a feeling," Rigby said.

"Has she come up with a name for it?" Mordecai asked.

"She's throwing around a few… I think she has her heart set on 'Deep in the Heart of August' or just 'August'," Rigby said.

"Kind of cliché," Mordecai said.

"Yeah," Rigby said. "Whatever, hey, once she gets it published we're gonna be kind of like celebrities."

"I told her to change the names for a reason, dude," Mordecai said, playing with one of Rigby's toes. "I don't want that kind of attention."

"We'll be secret celebrities," Rigby said, pulling away his foot.

Mordecai laughed a bit and pinned Rigby against the mattress with his knuckles.

Rigby gave some playfully pained yelps as Mordecai twisted his arm softly. Their eyes met and locked, and Mordecai gently clawed at the waistband of Rigby's boxer shorts.

* * *

><p>"So when are we gonna tell them?" Benson asked as Skips slumped over the bed.<p>

"Tomorrow, I guess," Skips said.

Benson groaned. "I'm really dreading this," the gumball machine said, clutching his belly. "I mean, I don't want to disappoint anyone."

"You've done the best you can, Benny," Skips said, sitting back down on the bed.

"I know… I know…" Benson said. "It just seems so sudden, is all… and it's been all this time and…"

Skips shushed him softly and held his hand. "It'll be fine, they'll understand."

"I certainly hope so," Benson said.

* * *

><p>Margaret typed furiously, correcting the words lined with jagged red squiggles beneath them.<p>

"Eileen," Margaret said, scratching her temple. "Break?"

"Sure," Eileen replied, reclining in her office chair. "I think we're almost done, yeah?"

"Sure are," Margaret said with enthusiasm. "Finally…"

"Hey, writing a book takes time," Eileen said.

"Sure, sure," Margaret said. "I wasn't complaining, I'm just saying… hard work, you know?"

"What's the word count?"

"You don't wanna know," Margaret chuckled. "Still a bit too high if we want to get it published."

"Ah… darn," Eileen said.

"Yeah… hey, did you give Mordecai that preview copy yet?"

"I did," Eileen said. "I think he's gonna give me his thoughts on it tomorrow."

"You think Rigby's gonna read it?" Margaret asked.

"You kidding?" Eileen chuckled. "He pretty much already has."

"That so?"

"He acts like he isn't into it, but he asks about it more than anyone," Eileen said. "Have you shown any of it to Mitch at all?"

"Nah," Margaret said. "He's not really into reading… and I think he's still a little bit pissed that he didn't get to be apart of it."

"Oh, speaking of him, I mean you two… I mean you know," Eileen said. "How was your date tonight?"

"Date?" Margaret detested. "That wasn't a date."

"He was wearing a suit when he picked you up… you sure he didn't think it was a date?"

"We're just really good friends," Margaret smirked.

Eileen groaned.

"What?" Margaret asked.

"Nothing," Eileen said.

* * *

><p>The long train outside finally hissed and screeched to a halt outside.<p>

Rigby's tail relaxed itself, and he fell over on his side.

Mordecai wrapped himself around Rigby and shared in his friend's panting afterglow.

"You're too good," Rigby coughed, trying to catch his breath.

Mordecai tickled his chin and kissed his forehead.

It was true; Mordecai had learned how to make Rigby happy. They certainly practiced enough.

"I try," he cooed confidently, giving Rigby a firm pat on his bum before rolling toward the window.

Rigby wrapped his arms around Mordecai's waist, and Mordecai examined his hands as he usually did.

"I really love you, man," Rigby said. "I… I want you to know that. And… I don't throw that word around. I don't even really like it…"

"I love ya too," Mordecai said.

"Yeah?" Rigby asked.

"Hells yeah," Mordecai said. "You're my buddy."

Rigby blushed a bit and nuzzled his friend's back.

"Is it always gonna be this way?" the raccoon asked.

"Sure," Mordecai said. "It's been this way since we were kids."

"I guess…" Rigby said. "Minus the boning and sleeping in the same bed. I just don't want to lose you ever."

Mordecai rolled toward his friend again and looked him over with an inviting smile. "I don't think you're gonna," he said, running his thumb over the raccoon's cheek. "I don't know if you want me to keep saying it, but you're the one I like being with, man. Nothing's gonna change that."

"I don't get tired of hearing you say it," Rigby said, looking to the side.

"Well get it through your skull dude," Mordecai said. "You're my best friend, and I like getting it on with you."

They laid in silence for a bit, enjoying each other's temperature.

Mordecai felt a bit of mischief settle in his bones. He let his hand think for itself.

Rigby felt a sharp pain. "Yo, quit pinching my ass," he laughed, shoving his friend.

"Never," Mordecai said, pinching even harder.

"Dude, for crying out loud," Rigby cried. His mouth was apprehended.

Mordecai loosened his pinch and kissed Rigby deep, rolling on top of him and grabbing the back of his neck.

Rigby hummed a bit through his nose and let his tongue wrestle with his friend's.

They stayed like this for a short while, and when they found a break they stared into each other's eyes, locked in a warm and happy gaze.

"Dude," Rigby said in a low tone. "We just fucked like a minute ago." He laughed a bit.

"Well don't you want a turn?" Mordecai said, touching foreheads with his friend.

"What? You mean," Rigby began before being interrupted by a nod.

"I'm feeling it hard tonight," Mordecai said, looking to the side with a guilty smile. "You know I don't give 'little Rigby' enough attention…"

"Uh huh," Rigby said with an elongated emphasis and a tight smirk. "Hey, it's not little," he added with indignation.

"You're right," Mordecai said. "That's why I usually don't offer… but you're really fucking hot right now and I love you and I just want you to give it to me really badly."

Rigby loved the power presented to him. "Even I have more dignity than that," he smirked.

"Oh shut up," Mordecai said, sitting up and crossing his arms. "If you're not gonna do it…"

"Hey, hey, I was kidding, man," Rigby said, sitting up with him. "I just thought you didn't like it."

"I like it a lot," Mordecai admitted.

"Well then," Rigby said, once again donning his confident grin. "Park your chest against the mattress and relax, I'll treat you right."

Mordecai complied, adding "not too rough" before resting his head on the bed.

"That's a laugh, you're 'too rough' every single time," Rigby said, resting his hand on Mordecai's hip.

"Yeah but you love that," Mordecai mumbled.

"True," Rigby said. "In any case, try not to wake the neighbors." He started giving Mordecai a backrub.

"Oh god, look at you, mister cocky and confident," Mordecai grumbled.

"That's Mister Thundercrotch to you," Rigby said in a deep voice.

Mordecai gave him a puzzled look.

"My porn name? Remember?" Rigby asked. "I was Ricky Thundercrotch, you were The Blue Bomber… Why do you not remember these things, we made up porn names like last week and…"

"Are you gonna do it or what?" Mordecai asked, getting impatient.

"Hold your horses," Rigby said, letting his thumbs work Mordecai's back. "I said I was gonna treat you right."

"Well just let me no when ah… oohhhh…" Mordecai cooed as Rigby finally gave a firm thrust.

The raccoon settled his chest against Mordecai's back and parked his nose under his friend's ear. "What do you say?" he whispered. His voice was cool and seductive.

"Thank you," Mordecai said with a struggled but obviously satisfied groan.

Rigby snickered to himself and gripped Mordecai around his stomach, biting down on his shoulder lightly.

* * *

><p>"Another awesome date," Muscle Man announced, reclining into his favorite chair.<p>

Fives greeted him with a smile. "That's good to hear," he said.

"Yep… I'm thinking I'm gonna ask her out pretty soon."

"You haven't already?" Fives asked, hovering a bit closer.

"Well no," Muscle Man said. "I mean, we pretty much are already, we just haven't made it official… Oooh!" he remarked. "Text message from Margaret," he announced, holding up his phone. "It says; 'thanks for the awesome time, dude! :P'"

"She called you dude," Fives laughed. "Isn't that a friendly thing?"

"Pff, Mordecai and Rigby still call each other dude, dude. It's a new world," the green man said, still fondling the text message. "And look, she sent the little face with the tongue sticking out. She totally wants it."

"Whatever you say," Fives said. "I'm gonna go outside for a bit, you mind?"

"Go ahead man," Muscle Man said, not breaking his gaze with his phone. "I might be asleep by the time you get back though."

"Yeah, okay, well if that's the case then goodnight man," Fives said, exiting through the window.

The green man started snoring almost immediately.

Fives hovered across the park in the darkness, taking in the silence of the late night.

The moon cast a light glow on the white surface of the snow. It was glazed over from the day's sun.

Fives looked around and smiled. It had been a peaceful couple of months, and despite everything that had gone on that summer everyone was closer than ever. He did miss Skips, though. Everyone missed Skips, it seemed, except Benson, who seemed to be in his own world most of the time.

And there was one more thing; Fives missed Spot dearly. He hadn't stopped looking after the mushrooms around the park, whose conspicuous and sudden appearance had yet to be accounted for. They managed to live through snow, somehow.

He came to his favorite tree and saw a healthy patch of toadstools at the roots. They seemed to glow. Perhaps it was his imagination. He hovered closer to the ground and touched their heads gently, wishing for a response.

"Ah… I wish you guys were here right now," Fives said. "I miss you. I feel so bad about… you know… getting all of you killed, well, most of you anyways."

There was silence.

"I want to repay you for helping all of us out, but," he said, looking around. "I dunno. Ever since Maelard filled in the well, I mean, I was planning on visiting all of you guys at some point but now it's a bit difficult. I hope your people are okay without you."

Again, it was silent. A whisper of a chilled wind echoed across the fallen snow.

"I had hoped that in all this, you would have found your way up here… to 'heaven', as you put it. Just wishful thinking."

"Hm?" a quiet voice said. "Spirit?"

"S… Spot?" Fives asked.

"That name is rather silly," the mushroom whispered. "Yes, I'm here."

"Is it really you? Oh my gosh, I knew it!" Fives cried. "You're really here!?"

"I'm here, spirit. I was resting, but you were so persistent," the voice chuckled. "What is it you want, closure? You did fine, don't worry about it."

"Why haven't you said anything?" Fives asked.

"I've been resting, friend," the voice whispered. "It's nice up here. The ground has so much to say."

"Well you could have said something," Fives said. "Here I thought you were dead…"

"I am dead, friend," Spot whispered. "And I'm happy."

"But can't you move?" Fives asked.

"I'm done moving," Spot said. "Please don't take offense, but at some point you stop wanting to give. And I have. I love it here. This cold breeze, the white circle in the sky, they bring me ease."

"Oh," Fives said with a bit of disappointment.

"Do not be sad, friend," Spot said. "You'll get yours… one day. I promise."

"But what about your people?" Fives said.

"Oh, I'm sure they're fine. You don't know how much you've helped them. You might never know, but to them you were an angel."

"I'm hardly an angel," Fives said with a frown.

"But you are, friend," Spot said. "Your wings just forgot to grow… they'll be with you soon enough, believe me. How are your friends doing?"

"They're okay… everyone's alive," Spot said. "At least I can say that."

"Well that's good. I feel like the ground here is disturbed, a bit."

"It is… There's been talk of leaving from everyone. I think Rigby and Mordecai are quitting," Fives lamented.

"Well, sometimes it's good to move on," Spot said. "I'm sure they have their reasons. There's a strong love between the two of them."

"Yeah," Fives said. "Makes me kind of jealous."

"Well don't you have a special someone you have your eyes on?"

"I do… there is a girl," Fives said.

"Well go get her," Spot said, "And let me sleep." He laughed a bit.

"You really want to be left alone, huh?" Fives said.

"I really do," Spot said. "My friends, the ones you feel so torn up about, are with me, by the way. They thank you."

"Fair enough… Are they really happy?" Fives asked.

"Happy as can be," Spot said. "Now… go find something else to do! I'm sleeping over here."

"Alright. Take care, in the… afterlife, or whatever," Fives said. "I'll be back to bug you at some point."

"I believe it," Spot said.

* * *

><p>"So?" Rigby said. "What did I tell you?"<p>

Mordecai huffed and rubbed his face against the bed, exhausted but alleviated. "You were awesome," he admitted, flipping over and looking up at his friend.

"Yes," Rigby said, clentching his fist and pumping it toward his chest.

Mordecai reached up and touched his friend's face. "Can you get another glass of water though?"

"Sure, sure," Rigby said, hopping off the bed and making his way to the kitchen. "You want anything to eat?"

"Yeah man… we got anything in the freezer?"

"Yeah dude I'll make you something," Rigby said, climbing up to the freezer and fishing around for something to microwave.

Mordecai sat up and watched his partner in the kitchen with a sweet admiration. He winced when he knew Rigby couldn't see him. Against his own wishes, Rigby had been a bit too rough, but Mordecai could forgive it. He wouldn't admit that he was in a little bit of pain.

"Um…" Rigby said. Only the blue glow of the coffee maker showed his silhouette in the dark. "We got ice cream, some pizzas, some weird thing that's got chicken in it…"

"All of it," Mordecai said with a huff. "I'm starving dude."

"Alright, one 'everything'," Rigby said with a smirk, taking several boxes out of the freezer and getting some plates.

"Dude," Mordecai said, "if we keep staying up like this all the time we'll never get our lives together."

"I'm okay with that," Rigby said. The box he was holding in his mouth muffled his voice. He tore it open with his free hand. "Oh, we also got mac and cheese."

"Make it," Mordecai said. "I fuckin' love you by the way," he added, stomach grumbling.

"It's nothing. I'm gonna eat half," Rigby said.

The microwave beeped to life, rotating and humming as the many frozen goods, stacked upon each other, thawed and released pleasant smells into the cozy apartment.

"Are we gonna say love a lot now?" Rigby asked. "It's such a gay word." He smiled, though he tried to force himself not to.

"You love it," Mordecai laughed.

"Oh pshh," Rigby said, taking the food out of the microwave.

"Hey Rigby," Mordecai said, perking up and becoming more aware.

"What?" Rigby asked.

"Love you," Mordecai said, elongating his vowels and tilting his head.

"Fuckin' quit it," Rigby chuckled.

"Love ya," Mordecai said again, biting his lower lip and making a stupid face.

Rigby pounded his own side with glee and a bit of anguish.

"Gimme that food lover boy," Mordecai said. "Oh and by the way I love you."

"I'm gonna kill you!" Rigby said, laughing hysterically.

"Fine, do that," Mordecai said. "But feed me first."

"Here's your stinkin' food," Rigby said, approaching the bed and handing Mordecai a plate full of macaroni and cheese, pizza and some strange thing with chicken in it. "Bon Appétit, bitch."

Mordecai took a forkful and shoveled it into his mouth. "So I'm your bitch now?" he asked, mouth full of mush. "I think you're the one cooking, bud."

Rigby belched loudly out of disrespect, and Mordecai stuffed some more food in his mouth.

"Thanks for the food though, man, seriously," Mordecai said.

"Don't mention it," Rigby said.

After they finished their very early breakfast, Rigby brought their plates to the sink and rinsed them off, returning with a glass of water and a bit of a smile.

They finished the water together and then snuggled up together.

Mordecai opened the window a smidge to let the cool breeze in.

* * *

><p>The next day, they appeared at the park, on time, as they had for the past few months.<p>

Muscleman and Fives stood in front of the house. They looked confused.

"Where's Benson?" Rigby asked.

"We were gonna ask you guys the same thing," Muscleman said.

"Look!" Mordecai said, noticing a small white envelope peaking out from under the steps.

Mordecai picked it up. It said "To everyone."

They all gave each other nervous glances as Mordecai peeled the slip open carefully.

Inside was a handwritten note.

_ To my crew;_

_ I consider all of you my friends. Maybe even more than that. I honestly like to think of you guys as the family I never had, and for that I'm truly grateful._

_ That doesn't mean you haven't pissed me off on the daily, and it certainly doesn't mean any of you deserve your jobs. I could have fired each and every one of you at some point, but I didn't, and you know? Up until now, I've had a hard time understanding why I could never bring myself to it. I've been working here longer than any of you, and I can tell you one thing, you four are the sorriest excuse for a work force I've ever seen in my life. You never finish your work on time, you're always complaining, and you're always hooking up when you think I'm not looking (Mordecai and Rigby, don't think I don't see you.)_

_ But you're also the most important to me. You've taught me things that no one else could have._

_ And for that reason, it is my duty to be the first to go. I care about you too much to let it get in the way of my authoritative duties. Consider this my resignation as your boss. I QUIT! Ha ha. Give my regards to Maellard, and tell Pops to keep his chin up._

_ Oh, and Mordecai and Rigby; I knew you were going to quit today. Word spreads fast. Didn't want to give you the satisfaction, so the both of you are fired! Ha ha… I beat you to it. Check the books, neither of you guys are working here anymore… so feel free to get out while you still can! I left you a month's worth of paychecks to buy food and weed and whatever the hell else you two idiots do with money. _

_ Thanks for making these years special. I'm sure we'll all see each other again some day._

_ Much love;_

_ Benson._

_PS; I'm taking Skips with me. He says "sayonara."_

…August

* * *

><p>That's my fic!<p>

Phew. Sorry, this might be a bit emotional. I published the first chapter of this over a year ago, and it's not that I never had the intention of finishing it, but I didn't expect to. In any case, this is by all accounts the most ambitious thing I've ever started and completed, and I have all of you to thank.

If you head over to my tumblr you can download the mixtape of all the songs that inspired this and a few original tunes, too. It's a big barrel of music.

I guess I should do a thank you list...

Thank you Demihuman123 for believing in me.

Thank you Mintz for being both an incredibly talented artist and also a really cool, patient and understanding friend.

Thank you Druggiefresh for making the first ever August grafitti (I still can't believe that actually happened)

Thank you Partywolf for helping proofread and for just being a really cool dude with good taste.

Thank you Pacefalm for being an awesome guy. When you first reached out to me it was a glorious day.

Thank you Sy for being a superfan and an awesome author as well! (Be on the look out for this guy, he's got crazy skills and he's working on an awesome fic right now called SODA.)

Thank you Sugar for being awesome and hilarious and helping me get alot of exposure with your great fan art.

Thank you yellowboze (you'll probably never read this *shakes fist*) for being a great friend! You were the first internet bro I ever met in real life, and all the times we chilled were memorable and fun.

Thank you Nope (I KNOW for a fact that he'll never see this but oh well) for being a cool dude. I know we butt heads alot but I still think you're a good friend.

Thank you Waifu for always keeping up with my writing and making me feel special. You always get so excited about everything I write! =) (Her OCs Maxine and Amy are really really good, and I'm not even the OC type. Look them up, seriously.)

Thank you Herpus for being my Game of Thrones bro and just being cool as shit. (*bro-bumps*)

Thanks Partyvan for just... i dunno... being an awesome friend and an adorable individual! (He has an OC called Dudley, aka Rigby's dad, and I've written for him because I really like Dudley alot.)

and a big BIG thanks to all of my readers and followers. I love you guys, and if it weren't for you I would never have gotten this far. You make me feel confident, and I don't have alot of confidence so seriously, thank you. I wish I could put all of you in a room and give you giant hugs and throw cake in all of your faces.

Anyways...

Yeah I guess I'm done here. Tell me what you thought of the story! Did you hate it? Did you love it? What do you like about this pairing?

And again! Make sure to hop on my tumblr to get the mixtape/ album, I'm sure you'll love it!


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